


Pieces of You

by CaptainTarthister, LuxEvergreen, SeleneU



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Co-Written, F/M, Heartbreak, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Love Confessions, Mentions of Terrorism, Missed Connections, Moving On, My First Work in This Fandom, Post-Break Up, Rough Sex, Round Robin, Second Chances?, mild attempt at humor, there will be smut later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxEvergreen/pseuds/LuxEvergreen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeleneU/pseuds/SeleneU
Summary: Brienne Tarth, a literary professor at King's Landing University, seems to have her life together.Looking forward to her summer break, Brienne is suddenly taken aback once she finds out thatsomeone from her past is searching for her, threatening to open old wounds she thought were healed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~This is a one shot, so I don't expect to continue this (translation: don't even think I'll do this again, lol).~~  
>  Well, fuck. Apparently I lied, and btw, peer pressure is real.  
> I decided that maybe this story deserved a proper development and conclusion after all. However, I am perfectly aware I can't pull this shit off on my own. So I recruited the help of Luxevergreen and CaptainTarthister, who will do a sort of RR/collab with me.  
> When it's complete, I'll add who wrote which chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> It's angsty, so if you're not into that, you've been warned.
> 
> \- I don't write fiction. This is the product of a bad case of insomnia, lack of alcohol and Advil PM on the premises.
> 
> \- All mistakes are mine, characters belong to GRRM, yada yada yada.
> 
>  
> 
> I gift this to: LuxEvergreen, CaptainTarthister and WackyGoofball who all seem to think I can write fiction. I can't, but I love them for their unwavering faith in my abilities :)
> 
> I'm blessed to have met all three of you. This fandom brought us together and I count myself incredibly lucky that I have you guys in my life.
> 
> Special thanks to LuxEvergreen, who took on the tremendous task of beta for this "experiment". Love you more than a Sephora shopping spree!
> 
> Ok, enough chitchat. Enjoy the ride ; )

Thanks to the lovely [justme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_spring/pseuds/justme) for the gorgeous banner. _You rock, babe!!!_                

 

                                                                           

 

Brienne looked at the clock on the wall and considered the time. It was 2:45 PM. In fifteen minutes her students would herd towards her desk and turn in their final exam before summer break officially started.  
  
They weren’t the only ones longing for their much-awaited vacation. Brienne was exhausted. Since she became a literature professor at King’s Landing University eight years ago, she’d put heart and soul into her teaching; meticulously prepping all of her lesson plans and finding new ways for her students not to fall asleep during her afternoon lectures.  
  
Brienne looked at the clock again. Time was up.  
  
“Ok, everyone. Put your pencils down and leave your exams on my desk, please.” Some of the students started to groan with protests and grumbled by saying, “No!” and “I need more time!” Brienne sympathized, but she had to be strict; she knew that if she relented and gave them more time it would set an annoying precedent.  
  
Papers landed unceremoniously on her desk as students bumped into each other, eager to be free of the stuffy room so they could enjoy the warm, summer sun on their skin. Brienne sighed. She knew it would be a few more days of grading papers before she could enjoy her time off also.  
  
Brienne looked up as her last student handed in his paper. Rickon Stark, the son of her friend and mentor, Catelyn Stark, and the shyest of his five siblings. She had known Rickon since he was three years old, and still he had a hard time looking her in the eye. “Thanks, Rick,” she said, smiling up at him. “Any exciting plans this summer?”  
  
“No, not really,” he murmured. “Just reading. And you know... guitar practice.” Brienne nodded; she knew that Rickon’s musical talent gave him, the youngest Stark, a feeling that he had the upper hand over his siblings. He was a gifted musician and spent whatever time he could just to squeeze in the extra practice hours.  
  
“I’ll probably see you next weekend,” Brienne told him. “Your mom invited me over to your summer kick-off barbecue.” Rickon nodded and gave her a shy smile as he waved while heading towards the door. Suddenly, he turned around. He’d suddenly remembered something.  
  
“Oh, professor. I almost forgot to tell you…” Brienne smiled. “Rickon it’s ok to call me ‘Brienne.’ We’re not in class.” Rickon started to turn red. “Yeah, right. I knew that. Anyway, I forgot to tell you before. I saw your name on the Missed Connections wall.”  
  
Brienne was puzzled. “The what?” She had no idea what a “Missed Connection” was, or why the hells her name would be on it. Rickon looked at her like she had grown a second head. “You don’t know about the Missed Connections wall in the subway?” he said, shaking his head. “Everyone knows about it. “  
  
Brienne gazed wordlessly at him. A moment had passed before Rickon cleared his throat, “There’s a wall in Visenya’s Hill station where people put up messages for who they want to reconnect with. You know, like friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time? Or parents who are looking for their kids? And for the disappeared from..." Rickon cleared his throat again. “Anyway, I was waiting for the train and started to read the messages, and I saw your name. Although the person called you by another name too, that’s why I didn’t realize it was you at first.”  
  
Brienne became even more confused. “I have no idea who could be looking for me. Everyone I know lives in King’s Landing. My father…” Brienne tried to swallow the pain still fresh in her heart. “My father passed away in Tarth a few years ago. He was the only person outside of King’s Landing that I had. “ She looked down at Rickon, “Maybe it’s not even me?”  
  
Rickon shook his head stubbornly, “No. It was you. The message said ‘Brienne Tarth.’ Hang on… I took a picture.” Rickon dug out his phone and scrolled a few seconds until he found what he was looking for. “Here. See? There’s a number too."  
  
Brienne looked down at the picture on Rickon’s phone. Suddenly she felt everything around her start to pitch forward before it faded with a dull ringing in her ears. She felt her heart start to beat impossibly fast. She could hear Rickon call her name, asking if she was OK, but it sounded like he was speaking to her from miles away. She read the message again.  
  
“Blue eyes…”    
“Remember Wolf’s Diner?”  
“I’ve never forgotten… ”  
“...fifteen years...”  
“I need to find you.”  
“Brienne…”  
  
_It couldn’t be... This can't be happening. Not again…_ Brienne thought she had exorcised Jaime Lannister from her life. And now, here were his words, written on a sheet of paper, hastily stuck with tape on a subway station wall, calling her name.  
  
Pleading.  
  
Tears welled and stung at her eyes.  She could feel Rickon staring at her with curiosity. Why was Jaime looking for her? _What could he possibly want after more than a decade? Why now?_   Why, when she had finally moved on without him?  
  
Brienne swallowed hard. The only thing she knew for certain was that there was no way she could bring herself to call the number on that piece of paper. She remembered the unbearable pain she felt after he’d left. The long days, alone in her apartment, slowly trickling away to nothing; missing him so much that she was unable to focus on her life… unable to focus on a future without him.

His phone calls, steady at first and filled with so much promise, decreasing more and more until they finally stopped altogether, ripping whatever was left of her heart in the process...  
  
There was no way she would be able to bear that kind of pain now. Not this time.    
  
Not again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Lannister is a travel-weary photojournalist who is waiting for a train.  
> Stranded inside of the Visenya's Hill Station, he decides to take a peek at the  
> Missed Connections board looming close by...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! It's LuxEvergreen! Nice to see you!
> 
> Yep! It's happening! Selene is continuing her story, and it's all thanks to you for your incredible support.
> 
> As soon as I read the first draft, I was DYING to know what happened next. After many e-mails and countless  
> PM's later, I and the delightful CaptainTarthister, managed to twist her arm into telling the rest of her story! 
> 
> She did have one condition though... she said it would have to be a collaboration.  
> So, with that, I humbly submit to you Chapter Two of Selene's, Pieces of You. Enjoy!

Jaime looked at the clock on the wall and quietly disputed its accuracy. It was 7:36 AM and the eastbound train to Flea Bottom was running three minutes late.

Standing on the platform in his designer field jacket, a faded military duffel bag and an irritated expression on his face, Jaime fought back a roll of the eyes as he checked his phone. Much to his displeasure, he’d confirmed that the clock on the wall was, indeed, accurate. Aggravated, he turned from the tracks and walked away. In need of a distraction, he made his way towards the stairwell in search of a phone signal.

Glancing down at his phone, Jaime winced at the red dot tallying his unread e-mails: the grand total was 11,468 in his InBox. He’d considered skimming over a few hundred with the lazy scroll of a thumb, but the very thought of it gave him a headache. Longing to dodge his responsibilities for one more day, he dismissed his InBox and tried to browse the internet instead. At best, all he could only get was two bars, and the signal was shoddy. Suddenly, his phone screen came to life and lit up with a call. Jaime didn’t recognize the number, so he allowed it to go to voicemail; if it were important, they’d leave a message.

Grumbling about humanity’s ability to walk on the moon but unable to provide a decent signal within a subway tunnel, Jaime tucked his phone back into his jacket and slung the heavy duffel bag to his other shoulder. Frustrated, he sank a hand deep into his pocket and started to pace the tiled wall of the platform.

A soft ‘ _snick_ ’ and a ‘ _pop_ ’ echoed inside the train station while a faint buzzing transmission filled the tunnel. After a few moments of awkward fumbling over the speakers, the intercom finally hummed to life. “ _Uuuuuhhhhhh,_ good morning.”

Everyone in the station turned their heads to face the speakers mounted on the walls.

“ _Weeeee_ , uhhh. We are experiencing some technical difficulties right _noooow_ —” A surly choir of groans and insults echoed inside the station. “ _Ahhhhhhhhh_ , as you might’ve noticed... the eastbound line for Flea Bottom is running behind schedule—”

A group of kids dressed in school uniforms smiled at each other while some of the adults flipped off the security cameras and a grown woman in a tailored suit chucked her coffee cup at the speaker. “Well, _that’s obvious_ , ya fucking asshole!” Unaffected by the commuter’s outrage, the disembodied voice continued while Jaime sighed and grumbled under his breath. “We are expecting to be moving along here in just a few minutesssss… _Uhhhhhhhhh..._ On behalf of King’s Landing Transportation, I would like tooooo... _thankyouforyourpatience._ ” With that, the microphone fumbled again before the buzzing switched off with a ‘ _snick_ ’ and a loud ‘ _pop_.’

Resigned to the fact that he was going to be late for his eight o’clock meeting with the publishing house, Jaime considered running out to the streets to hail down a cab but thought better of it. He was in no mood to feel rushed. If the magazine wanted to publish his photos of the civil war in Vaes Dothrak, they wouldn’t care if he was a couple of minutes late.

Continuing his methodical pace down the platform wall, Jaime overhead commuters bitching and moaning to no one. Over his shoulder, he heard two girls talking. “You know what that means, right?” The other girl didn’t respond. “Means that they’re scraping a dead guy off the tracks.” Jaime quirked his brow in silent agreement. Finally, the other girl replied. “ _Again?_ Feels like this shit happens _every day!”_

Proceeding down the platform, Jaime followed the broad curves of the tiled wall. The hallway led him towards another path that funneled commuters to the southbound platform. As soon as he made the turn, he paused to throw a brief glance over his shoulder. With no one there to see him, Jaime turned his back and stared at the wall. To his right, he found a long corkboard feathered with thick layers of colorful notes.

Some of the notes found on the cork board were seemingly innocuous things: there was random birthday cards, old school photos with fading ink and curling edges; a ticket stub for a superhero movie and a cluster of childish, glittery stickers adorning a poster. There were even a few cards, pink and white with a red foil print, wishing someone a Happy Maiden’s Day. Jaime scanned the long board with lowered eyes and flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Finally, he saw it: a mint-green sheet of paper bearing the distinctive scrawl of his own penmanship. It was Jaime’s personal message to Brienne.

At first, he was relieved to find that his note was still there; his second feeling had been of disgust. A fresh posting had obscured over half of his note. Jaime’s first instinct was to rip it down, but his hands paused once he opened the card to read it. The card covering his note was a simple piece of yellow construction paper folded in half; scribbled inside with black and green crayon was an illustration of two stick figures holding hands. It was the crude rendering of a child standing next to its mother. Hovering above the stick figures was a fluffy blue cloud floating over the mother and child. Standing on top of the billowy cloud was another stick figure that looked down on the two standing below. Underneath the drawing was a childish scrawl that simply read, “ _I miss you Daddy_ ,” followed by a tireless string of Xs and Os. Tucked beneath the child’s handwriting was another message penned in neat cursive.

“ _It’s been six years, but it still feels like yesterday._  
_I miss you, Baby. Love, Honey-Bunny._ ”

Feeling abashed for wanting to tear down a grieving family’s memorial, Jaime carefully removed his note to Brienne with slow, reverent fingers. Holding onto the green piece of paper with a shamefaced look, he took a few steps back and tried to locate another place to pin his message to the wall.

Almost everyone knew about the littered cork board inside Visenya’s Hill transit station; commonly known by all as the Missed Connections board, it was a well-known landmark that was admired by tourists and revered by the citizens of King's Landing. Six years ago, a violent string of terrorist attacks devastated the population of King’s Landing. During that time financial offices were destroyed, septs were set to flame, and the southbound tunnel on Visenya’s Hill was bombed, killing hundreds of people during the rush hour commute.

In the traumatic days following the subway attack, friends and family members—desperate to locate their loved ones—taped up hundreds of missing flyers and photos of the deceased alongside melted candles, withered balloons and crunchy bouquets of dead flowers. In the years that followed, the missing person flyers were slowly replaced by a thirty-foot long cork board that became an outlet of grief for everyone. Over time, loving memorials gradually included other notes as well, amassing dozens of flyers that searched for runaway teens, lost pets, missing persons and abducted children. Soon after, it included anonymous postings from strangers that fell in love with other strangers, as well as notes from people seeking a long lost love or had felt estranged. Soon after, it was known by locals and tourists alike as the famous Missed Connections board of King’s Landing.

Gingerly re-tacking his message on the board besides a woman’s note to her parents—a devastating apology for running away—Jaime took a few steps backward while his thoughts returned to Brienne. He remembered the day he first laid eyes on her: it was on a sunny morning, inside of a shitty dive called Wolf’s Diner on the corner of 63rd and Tully. Under the looming shade of the Frey Bridge, Jaime sat in a vinyl booth with a crisp newspaper laid out and a half eaten plate of runny eggs. With the ring of a bell mounted over the entryway, he paused as he struggled to raise a cup of coffee to his mouth. To him, if felt like watching the sun rise for the very first time when he saw her: a long-legged goddess with a militant stride floated through the diner with aviator shades and a messy bob of shaggy pale hair.

A faint whine filled the tunnel while a soft breeze flushed across the white tiled platform. The eastbound train was approaching, over ten minutes late. Hitching the faded green canvas bag over his shoulder, Jaime winced as he heard some of his expensive camera gear shift inside the duffel. Though he should have walked back to the platform to grab his train, Jaime remained near the southbound staircase with eyes lingering over his note again. A part of him wanted to rip it back down and throw it away. It had been almost a year since he first posted it. There was no point in keeping it up there anyways; the hastily scrawled note had been nothing more than an impulsive, cowardly wish of his.

Heavy train car wheels ‘ _clanged_ ’ and ‘ _clacked_ ’ over the polished rails while the engine grew louder and the brakes started to squeal. Seconds before the train pulled to a stop, Jaime felt a vibration buzz in his pocket followed by a loud ‘ _ding_.’ It was his voicemail. Rooting through his field jacket, he fished out the phone only out of habit. Though he didn’t recognize the number, he listened to the message with an ashen face and a blank stare. The voice on his phone belonged to the one person he was desperate to reach.

The voice on the phone was Brienne’s.

A rush of wind had blustered inside of the tunnel moments before the train fell to crawl with a deafening squeak of brakes. Although he was running late for his meeting with the publishing house, Jaime also had the voice of the only woman he had ever loved speaking into his ear.

Dropping the heavy duffle bag with the muffled sounds of glass breaking, Jaime raced up the stairs of the southbound platform to listen to her voicemail again with his heart caught in his throat. He’d lost her once before... Jaime Lannister was many things, but he wasn't a fool. He wasn’t going to let Brienne slip through his fingers the second time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! : D
> 
> Just like you, I can't wait to read the next chapter! *starts to flap hands like a chicken*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime's relationship in college, and bitch twin Cersei getting in the way. As usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, apologies for the delay, but this chapter was wicked long. In fact, it had to be split in two because there's too much important stuff going down that explains how they met in college and become a couple plus other things that will become relevant later.  
> So just to recap: this chapter and the next are flashbacks into JB's college years. Keep in mind their relationship here is not the frequently read enemies-to BFFs-to lovers trope, but instead...well, I'll let you find out for yourself ;)  
> Cersei (yuck) makes her unwanted debut, as does Hyle Hunt. Just a reminder, there's no twincest action in this fic ;)  
> Hope you like it :)  
> p.s. Uh...there might be an homage to JAB June in this chapter...

_ Fifteen years ago _

 

“You can’t do this to me!” Hyle Hunt was pretending to wail, stomping his foot on the floor for emphasis. “Brienne, you swore to come with me to the Second Sons tribute concert tonight.”

Brienne paused from stuffing her backpack with her notes and markers to roll her eyes at him. “I said I would swear to _think_ about it. Second Sons isn't really my type of music, you know.”

“But you know some of their songs! You’re the only one I know on this fucking campus who’s even familiar with them.”

“You’re already going with some people from your floor so stop acting like a whiny girl, Hyle! I know you’re prettier than me, but you just can’t pull it off. Pigtails might help though, and a stuffed bra. Emphasis on _might_.”

They were in her dorm room, as usual. Hyle had a single room in his fraternity house but claimed that it reeked of testosterone and beer all the time, no matter how long he left the window open. Just as well that Brienne hardly set foot in there. If the frat boys didn’t make fun of her looks, there might have been someone desperate enough for sex to try and drag her to a room. Fat chance of _that_   happening, however. At six-foot-three with a powerful body toned at the local gym, Brienne intimidated even the likes of Khal Drogo, (or so Hyle claimed) who was an offensive lineman on the football team.

“Get off your ass. Come on, I have to meet someone,” she said, looking at her watch while tucking her keys into her jacket pocket.

Hyle leaped off the bed and followed her out. Brienne, ever cautious, secured not only the doorknob but also the double lock. While she twisted the key, Hyle leaned up against the wall with suspicious eyes.

“Someone? A _date_ you mean?”

“Oh, gods, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” Brienne grunted as she yanked the key out before strolling down the hallway with her father’s aviator shades perched on top of her head. With her strides twice the length of Hyle’s, he was practically jogging to keep up with her.

“Who else are you meeting in a diner if it’s not a date?” Hyle pressed as they climbed the stairs and approached the lobby.

Brienne flushed, biting her lip in conflict; Professor Stark had pleaded for her discretion. It wasn’t like a big secret, but she’d been advised not to prattle on about it. In the end, silence won and she was grateful that her height obscured her blush; Hyle would have had to stand on a couple of apple boxes to see it.

“It’s no big deal,” she answered, thinking fast. “I’m interviewing someone for my sociology paper. I’m studying the college crisis hotline. Thought I told you about that.” 

Brienne really hadn’t known Hyle Hunt for very long; he’d once asked her out on a date, but she had rejected him. Experience had taught her that ninety-nine percent of the time, anyone who asked her out was only trying to get a joke at her expense. Regardless, Hyle had asked three more times, and three more times Brienne had answered him with a firm ‘no.’

Perhaps she shouldn’t be so picky because only the Gods knew that the dating pool for someone her size and looks was rather shallow. Whatever longings Brienne might have had for romance, with all of those stupid fairy tales and romantic comedies drilled into her brain, were now deeply buried, convincing herself that she shouldn't even bother entertaining such thoughts. Would a glass slipper ever belong to someone with such enormous feet? Could a prince stay by her side after he watched her snore with a gaping mouth and drool on her chin?

Maybe… maybe she was missing out on a lot. After all, she was a twenty-year-old woman who had never been kissed. Never been _anything_ , really--she was only a daughter and ace student. Others may have thought it wasn’t much, but she valued her close relationship with her father. The Tarth family wasn’t drowning in money, but they still had their pride; Brienne was an accomplished academic and the recipient of a prestigious scholarship, and romance, she felt, was for people who had time. She didn’t have that luxury, not when she had a 4.0 GPA to uphold, not when college had become so exciting, so challenging to all of her ideas and beliefs. She would rather stay in her room with a philosophy book instead of making out in the back of a car with some guy who was probably more fixated on popping the proverbial cherry rather than liking Brienne just for herself.

At first, she had thought Hyle was a jackass, and she didn’t mind telling him that once he started to ask her out. But somehow he ended up becoming a friend to her, probably the closest friend she’d ever had.  Hyle was a nice guy, but his only interests ranged from death metal music and pizza; nothing could bore him faster than a discussion involving academics.

Brienne then took a gamble, trying to throw Hyle off the scent, "Why? You want to come with me?“

His response was just as she'd predicted. “Uh, no thanks, maybe another time, Bree. I just realized, I _really_ need to be somewhere.”

“Take care,” Brienne said, waving goodbye. Hyle mouthed ‘see ya’ and headed towards his frat house. Brienne waited a while before she started laughing softly to herself.

 

                                                                                                             ***

  
  
She was still laughing by the time she reached Wolf’s Diner, a dive just outside 63rd and Tully, close to the Frey Bridge. Besides its convenient location, the cheap beer and their unlimited nacho special made it a popular destination for students. A loud bell hanging over the entryway announced her arrival, and Brienne was surprised once she noticed there wasn’t an empty table or booth in sight--unusually busy for a Thursday morning. She found a mirror that was beside the door and quickly checked her reflection. The brief walk messed up her hair, so she combed it with her fingers. She’d made peace with all that she lacked in looks, but the battle with her hair was ongoing. It was a bob now, flipped around her ears, pale, almost white under a certain light.

Tragically flat-chested, the blue shirt she was wearing, low with a v-neckline, and a white tank top underneath to provide some sort modesty was nice enough, but there was nothing to be done about her freckles. _Gods._ It was only spring, but the red-pink blotches were still all over--a sad fact of her life. Come summer, she feared she was going to look like a giant, walking lobster.

Brienne didn’t have to crane her neck to find who she was meeting. As usual, he looked bored out of his mind, sitting in a corner booth, their eyes meeting from across the room at the same time. He smirked with two dimples flashing at her. Blue eyes peered at him over the rim of her sunglasses perched low on her nose; Brienne sighed and stomped towards him with an annoyed look on her face.

“Ah. So it’s _you._ ” Jaime Lannister drawled as she slid towards the opposite side of the booth with an exasperated look as he went on, “Professor Stark’s secret weapon. Good to see you, Tarthy.”

“Shut up,” Brienne grunted as she pulled off her shades, dumping her school bag onto Jaime’s newspaper next to a plate of half-eaten runny eggs.

No student in Westeros University was as infuriating as Jaime Lannister. He was an asshole extraordinaire, making no secret of his family’s impressive lineage or their massive caches of wealth. He treated everyone like lowly subjects and acted as though he walked on a red carpet wherever he went. There was also the fact that Jaime was the most handsome man in Westeros (probably Essos too). Unlike Brienne, all of the other co-eds would be more than happy to lose their underwear for him.

Blond, with rugged, chiseled looks and beautiful emerald green eyes, Jaime Lannister drew heads whenever he stepped foot in a room. Girls were always quick with their breathy ‘hellos’ and dreamy smiles whenever he walked past, while gay men often speculated about the potential of his sexual orientation. Because Jaime had never been seen with the same girl twice, no one could firmly establish if he had ever had a girlfriend. But then again, why would he? A guy with his looks, his wealth, his family’s name and power—why would he waste his youth on only one girl? Objectively, Brienne considered Jaime to be one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. That is, until he opened his mouth.

Jaime wasn’t a despicable guy really—far from it, but he did possess the rare talent to drive anyone with patience near murder. He enjoyed mocking everyone he met, and was never in short supply of snarky comments. Brienne couldn’t help but wonder if Jaime would actually _die_ if he were forced to keep quiet for one hour. When she’d first met him, she soon found out that he’d taken a particular delight in riling her up by calling her ‘wench.’ She reminded him often what her name was, and felt no qualms about pointing out his ignorance, how politically incorrect he was, not to mention that he was only setting himself up for a sexual harassment lawsuit. Whenever she did, Jaime would often look at her with wide, unblinking eyes as if he were a five-year-old who had only learned how to spell.

From the first time they laid eyes on each other, he was quick to size her up, squinted at her from head to toe with green eyes falling on her pale throat that slowly turned pink as he leered at her chest and said with an incredulous voice “You’re a fucking _woman?”_

Those were the first words he’d ever spoken to her. He then continued with an unsettling smirk. “You’re much uglier in daylight.”

When she would speak in class, he was always quick to interrupt her. He’d often talk with a bored drawl, slouched back in his seat, holding everyone's attention as he made his sarcastic quips, amusing everyone in the lecture hall. Everyone, that is, except for professor Stark and Brienne.

Jaime’s voice jolted her out of her reverie. “How are you gonna tutor me when we’re in the same class, and we pretty much know the same things?”

“You’re sure you know what I know?” Brienne retorted, looking down at the menu in their booth. “Oh. The peanut butter chocolate cake looks really delicious. I should get this to go.”

“To go? I was looking forward to this,” Jaime said sarcastically. “If I’d known you were just going to order takeaway. . .” he started to pout.  
Jaime’s voice started to dwindle. Looking up from the menu, Brienne could tell that Jaime was starting to pout. Frowning at him, she watched Jaime cross his arms while he shook his head in mock disappointment.

“I’m just not in the mood to share.” She answered before going back to the menu.

“You are _really_ cruel.”

“Then order the same and take it with you. We’re just going to talk for a bit, and then you have a lot of work to do.” Jaime started to speak, but Brienne raised her arm and called a waiter over, pointedly ignoring his pitiful, puppy-dog expression the entire time. As the waiter went off to take care of her order, she turned back to Jaime.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” He demanded.

“You have some massive catching up to do, Jaime.”

“So? I can just hire someone to write my final paper for the class. How much?” Jaime grinned and pursed his lips as if to kiss her. “Or would you take a kiss?”

“Get serious, will you?. According to Professor Stark, you need _a lot_ of help.”

The playfulness in his green eyes vanished immediately. He frowned, realizing that she was not in the mood for their typical classroom banter. He sat back, drumming his fingers on the table.

“One, I’m a Lannister, wench. A Lannister never needs help.”

“Oh, gods.” She groaned. “Not again with your Lannister speeches.”

“Two,” He held up two fingers, ignoring her. “A Lannister’s word is as good as gold.”

A pale blond eyebrow arched up. “Is there a third?”

“Depends on the situation.” Jaime tilted his head, looking at her. Brienne struggled not to squirm, but it was too late. She was more used to people insulting her than scrutinizing her. “How screwed am I?”

“Professor Stark didn’t say, but she asked me to help you with this. Jaime, you did not submit two of the three essays that were due, and the next one is in two weeks.” As Brienne spoke, Jaime made a snorting sound, crossing his arms.

“Listen to me,” Brienne said through gritted teeth.

“I am listening. Professor Stark is probably the only teacher who’s never liked me. Why does she suddenly care about my grades? And to have her favorite student help me—“

“I am _not_ her favorite.”

“What I’m _saying_ is, this administration only wants to secure my father’s hefty donations. Seven Hells, I wouldn’t be surprised if it's his influence behind Professor Stark's sudden desire to help me out. Pouring millions into this snobby institution, only for his golden son to flunk out.”

“You’re not going to flunk out.”

“College is annoying. Even the parties are boring.”

“Can we get back to the subject? I don’t know how bad your grades are. But I promised Professor Stark I would help you. That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, and you’re fucking making me work.”

Brienne ignored him and pulled out a list from her bag, and pushed it towards Jaime while he kept his arms crossed.

“I’m not touching that thing, wench.” He made a face as if the list smelled bad.

“Gods, how many times do I have to tell you my name? If Asha Greyjoy overhears you, she’ll slam your face into a toilet.” Asha Greyjoy was in their class and lived a floor below Brienne. She was a hardcore feminist and thought Jaime was a pampered, idiot golden boy.

“I think the sea water’s clogged her brain if you ask me.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and started to get up, but Jaime quickly grabbed her hand. Realizing she wasn’t taking any of his crap anymore, he said, “Alright. I’ll shut up and listen. I’ll look at the fucking list and work like a dog." He suddenly stared at her, and said “By the way, have I told you blue is a good color on you? It goes well with your eyes.”

Jaime Lannister was infuriating, but he was far from boring. When he suddenly started complimenting her, Brienne looked at him warily at first, but then she slowly settled back in the booth. “You’ll do anything to get the last word, won’t you?” she said, blushing and giving him a nervous smile.

Jaime shrugged. “It made you stay.”

They realized at the same time he was still holding her hand. He slowly let go of her fingers, and Brienne flushed and placed her hands back on her lap. She gestured to the reading list, and Jaime looked at her as if she’d just given him a death sentence, but Brienne wasn’t affected. If Jaime started turning in work and quit clowning around, he could shoot for a C, probably a C+. Brienne was determined not to disappoint Professor Stark.

“When did you have the time to dig up and read all these books?” Jaime said, reluctantly taking the list.

Brienne had blinked with slow eyes before she answered him in a baffled tone. _“Uhh…_ It was in Professor Stark’s syllabus?”

Jaime winced as he pocketed the list with a shiver of disgust. “I don’t want to hear the gory details about Professor Stark’s sex life, _wench_ ; I just finished eating.” Brienne furrowed her brows in slow confusion while Jaime continued. “Thank the gods for penicillin; I can only imagine how cruel she might have been without without any treatment--” With her mouth hanging wide open, Brienne’s face coiled up into a look of horror as soon as she realized what Jaime was actually saying.

“I said _‘syllabus’_ Jaime! Not _‘syphilis.’_

People inside of the diner slowly turned their heads as Brienne’s face turned bright pink and Jaime chuckled softly to himself. Shrinking her face deep into hunched shoulders, Brienne turned to Jaime and saw him quietly laughing behind a cup of coffee. Of course, he knew the difference between a sexually transmitted disease and a curriculum handout. Glaring at Jaime with a look of revulsion, Brienne’s face screwed up in a look of disdain while she sighed.

“Gods, _what is wrong with you?”_

Jaime shrugged his shoulders with a cocky laugh. “I’m a Lannister. There’s nothing   _wrong_   with me, it’s everyone else that has a problem.” He locked eyes onto his tutor until he winked at her.

Brienne sighed and started to get up. Jaime grabbed her hand again.

“Alright, I’ll be serious. I’m sorry wench—erm… _Brienne,_ you shouldn’t make it so damn easy to tease you. Nothing is more fun than watching you turn different shades of red. Come on, sit down.”

Brienne glared at him. “Last chance. If you make one more joke, I leave.”

“You know,” Jaime suddenly stacked his elbows on the table, leaning forward, and thinking he was about to say something in confidence, so did she while his breath feathered her ear.

“Blue really is _your_ color, Brienne.”

She balled up the napkin by her plate and threw it at him. “Stop mocking me!” she growled as it hit him right on the nose, making him laugh. “Hey, I mean it! I want you. . .” she blushed and pulled back to compose herself. As he looked at her expectantly, she continued, “Professor Stark asked me to help you, and I’m not going to disappoint her.”

“And what about me? Are you going to disappoint _me?”_

“Of course not. But at the end of this, if you don’t try—“

“I’ll disappoint myself,” he finished, sliding away from her. He pinched the narrow bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why the school cares so much. Oh, that’s right, _my father’s money._ If was a nobody like you, they’d just let me flunk out and admit another rich asshole from the waiting list.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed and pulled out the list, while looking at her.

“Alright. This is a fucking long list, Brienne, but tell me which thing to focus on and what to skim over. It would be better if there was nothing to read, but that’s not happening, is it?”  
             

                                                                                                              ***

  
They met three times a week, much to Jaime’s displeasure and Hyle’s increased moping, because he was apparently worried about being replaced. Brienne told him he was being ridiculous, but she also had to deal with Jaime’s whining, saying that his social life had already taken a hit. Her blue eyes flashed while she chilly reminded him that his situation was of his own making.

Jaime was not dumb. He admitted having some difficulty with reading because of his dyslexia, but he actually had an analytical mind, with a knack for sharp analysis that Brienne envied. One of the most difficult books assigned to them, _War of the Kings_ , was a fictional narrative based on actual historical events. It was a tough read and even Brienne, who enjoyed reading, struggled with it, while Jaime thought it was a waste of time talking about dead men, never mind reading about them.

“Kingdoms give absolute power to one person and the few who support him,” Jaime was saying, sounding like his usual bored self. “It’s never a good idea for one person to have that kind of power, simply because they had the luck of dragons on their side. Ruling well is never due to genetics.”

“True. Our present government may not be a kingdom but the power is still not in the hands of the people, but remember: it’s those who claim to represent our interests who elect from their own group who will be the next leader. Given that the line-up is currently just from Westeros’ old, wealthy families, what do you think primarily interests them?” Brienne pointed out.

They were in the area of the library that hardly saw any foot traffic, which also happened to be Brienne’s favorite spot. She could sit on the floor between the shelves, lean against the books and stretch her legs out. Jaime had to admit that there was some appeal sitting in a rejected, dusty corner of the library.

“The Council of the Seven, obviously,” Jaime said.

“And you need money to be part of it.”

“But the power is still not entirely on one person.”

“It’s still not with the people.”

“It’s what we have, so we have to work with that.”

“Does that mean we have to settle for what we have even if it doesn’t work and it’s an unfair, biased system?”

Jaime grinned. His smile was dimpled and mocking but still beautiful. Patting her on the leg, he said, “You got me there, wench.”

If they weren’t at the library, they were in Brienne’s room. This gave them privacy, but Jaime would sometimes complain it was too small, so she agreed to go to his more spacious and much nicer rooms at Casterly Hall. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at the fact that it was apparently named after his ancestral home.

Jaime didn’t have a room on the top floor—the school still had to control some of his privileges—but it really was better than Brienne’s tiny place. The first time she had set foot there, she marveled at the black-and-white photographs on Jaime’s walls, recognizing the locations in some of them. The Kingsroad, the glittering lights of Silk Avenue and the ruins of Harrenhal. This last picture was the one she felt most drawn to.

Harrenhal had been in ruins for centuries, and the government had no idea what to do with it. Because of its size and the tons of money it'd cost to preserve it, not to mention restore it, the ancient castle needed funds that the government couldn’t afford to give. The shortest estimated period for restoring it was twenty years, and to this day tourists weren’t allowed near it because its structure was near collapse.

Harrenhal's history had always been violent and bloody, from conception to its downfall. Brienne had seen it only once during a school trip years ago, and despite its sorry condition, there was still something dark and powerful about it. But in Jaime’s photograph, there was something... lost and lonely, like it was a ticking time bomb and anyone who held it was doomed to see an end to its legacy.

“This is... beautiful,” Brienne said, glancing at Jaime before turning back to the picture. “Harrenhal, right?”

“Yeah.” Jaime cleared his throat. “It is.”

“I didn’t think it could look so... desolate. I mean, even in photos you know this place is probably cursed but here... that’s not how it looks at all. It’s sad but _beautiful_ , like a relic lost from long ago.” Brienne looked at the photo again. “These were taken by the same person?” she asked him.

“Yeah.” Jaime continued his surprisingly short answers. “I took them.”

This was the first time Brienne saw Jaime looking nervous. There really was a lot more to him than he let on, and their debates told her he had a sharp mind and an unusual talent for looking at things in a fresh and interesting way.

“They’re wonderful. You have a good eye for taking pictures, Jaime.”

He looked pleased, but also embarrassed. “Thanks. I’d really like to travel someday, you know? Just me, a duffel bag, and my camera take photos of things outside of Westeros. But my father won’t allow that.”

“Why not?”

“Because when you’re rich, you have money for things, and to stay rich and get richer, you have to work like a dog. Photography is not 'work' according to Tywin Lannister.”

“But you’re so good at it.”

“To quote my father, _‘So’?”_ He shrugged and stared at the photos. “At least I take pictures for the school paper. It’s probably the only time I’m going to do this before real life begins.” Though his tone was light, there was something lost and wounded in his eyes, which stared sadly at the photos. Jaime ended any further discussion by pulling out his notes, so Brienne did the same.

 

                                                                                                               ***

 

Together, the two would have discussions in his room well into the night, and Jaime always insisted on walking her back to her dorm, despite her frequent protests. The first time she slept over, it had been raining all night, and they only noticed it during an awkward pause in their spirited debate. Jaime had been looking at Brienne as if he could see past her freckles and blotchy skin. She had looked away, blushing, and stared at the time in shock; it was past midnight, raining heavily, her dorm was fucking far away, and she had no umbrella. She asked  Jaime if he could lend her one.

Jaime looked at her as if she had just grown three heads. "What? Are you crazy? You could drown out there, and then who’s going to help me pass this blasted course?” he said with a smile.

“It’s only rain.” she protested.

“It’s not 'just rain' Brienne. It’s like the Drowned God’s pissing buckets. Why don’t you just stay the night?”

Brienne stared at him, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

Jaime ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. He seemed a bit flustered. “Uh, yeah. You take the bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

Brienne glanced at the sofa she was sitting on, which was really just a loveseat. “Unless you can detach your legs from the rest of your body, you won’t fit. No, I’ll take the couch.” When Jaime started to protest, she insisted, “I can sit and put my legs up on the table.”

“Or you can share the bed with me,” Jaime said slowly. She turned red and scowled, as he held up his hands. “Look, you’re taller than I am and if you sleep the way you said, you’re going to end up all stiff and crampy. I’ll stick to my side of the bed, and you stick to yours. Hells, I’ll even lend you my favorite pillow.” Because her face refused to recover its normal shade, he said impatiently, “Your virtue is safe with me, Tarth.”

Brienne wasn’t worried about Jaime taking advantage, but it just wasn’t right. They weren’t together, together and even if she was with somebody, it was doubtful she would ever be comfortable sleeping with another person. She often slept soundly, and there was nothing to be done about her mouth hanging wide open, not to mention that it just _wasn’t proper_.

Jaime continued to entice her, reading her discomfort as stubbornness. “Ok, look. You can have my favorite pillow, your virtue will be intact, and I’ll even lend you my pajamas and a change of clothes tomorrow. I can even throw in coffee _and_ a muffin for breakfast. What do you say?”

Brienne looked at him then mumbled, “Thank you, Jaime. But you don’t have to do any of those things. The bed is more than enough.”

“Well, if that’s what you thought why didn’t you say so? The one time you should have told me to shut up.” She had to smile at that, and he smiled back.

“Speaking of, you still have your virtue, don’t you?” Jaime said with a smirk.

Brienne’s entire upper body burned, but she gave him the finger. “You always know how to ruin things, don’t you?”

Jaime handed her an old crimson Casterly Rock jersey and gray cashmere pajamas. As Brienne wondered how to change when there was no place for privacy in the room, Jaime started to take his clothes off. She just couldn't stop herself from gulping like an idiot as his golden skin and firm muscles came to view, and when he reached for the waistband of his jeans, she squawked and stumbled to the door. He frowned, cocking an eyebrow at her in inquiry, and finding her voice, she asked where the bathroom was.

“Down the hall, to your left.”

Brienne bolted from the room, clutching her clothes tightly to her chest. She opened the door, glad to find it empty because she would probably die if there was somebody in the shower.

When she returned to the room dressed in Jaime’s pajamas, only the bedside lamp was lit, and he was already under the sheets. Brienne, who had gained back of bit of assertiveness, came to a screeching halt. Oh, Jaime was under the sheets alright: golden hair, sexily tousled and glorious muscles on display. Seeing her reaction, he rolled his eyes.

“What the fuck is going on with you, Tarthy?”

“N-Nothing.” She managed to say. She had always known he was handsome but like _this_?

_The Seven should have at least given me some warning._

Rain continued to pound incessantly outside, as Brienne found her feet again and hurried to the bed. Her hip hit the sharp edge of the table, jostling the lamp and yanking a shriek from her. As Jaime asked with concern if she was alright while shifting closer to the side against the wall, she dove under the sheets. She drew the sheet to her chin, shivering but not from the cold. She moved, her bruised hip connecting to Jaime’s and he hissed as her cold feet brushed his bare legs, causing her to freeze in place.

“Jaime? Are you—are you _naked?”_

“Would you like me to be?” Jaime drawled.

“Jaime!”

“No, I’m not fucking naked, Brienne. I’m wearing boxers.” He sounded a bit glum.

 _Dear gods, the man slept naked._ She closed her eyes, then opened them. She stared at him accusingly, freezing once again when she realized how close he was. His breath feathered her lips, and his eyes looked impossibly green.

She tried to lighten the mood. “So…does that mean your ass print is all over this bed?”

“It’s _my_ bed.” He said defensively. “As if your ass print isn’t all over yours.”

“Ugh.” She turned on her side. Behind her, Jaime shifted. She jumped when he suddenly wrapped and arm around her waist and whispered in her ear.

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned. It’s not like there’s evidence of… stuff all over—“

 _“Jaime!”_ She grasped a bit of skin from his arm and pinched him hard. Thinking he was going to ask her to leave, she was surprised when he burst out laughing.

“You are surprisingly skittish for someone your size, wench.” He said. “Come here, sweetling.” He pulled her back until the warmth of his chest pressed on her back. She was stiff and glaring at the wall opposite them. He surprised her again, this time by dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

“Sorry. I’ll behave, I swear.” His whisper tickled her ear.

“Are you sure it’s alright with you that I stay here?”

“I’d rather have the bed to myself wench, but that would mean tossing you out in the rain. I’m tired, and the last thing I need is my conscience nagging at me.” He put an arm around her waist again. “Could you get the light, please?”

As she flicked off the light, she felt how his arm lightly clutched her waist as darkness filled the room. She had never done this, sleep with a boy, although Jaime Lannister was hardly a boy. Her misgivings at having to spend the night in his bed had fled her mind at this point, mainly because she knew Jaime had no designs on her. He had become a strange sort of friend who liked to annoy the hell out of her, but surprisingly, he was also a gentleman.

She closed her eyes. Jaime’s hair tickled her nape.

“Brienne?” He whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Does Hyle know you’re here?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I mean... .aren’t you... you know. Aren’t you fucking him? _Ow!_ ” Jaime yelped, as she smacked his hand. He laughed and removed his arm from her waist while she remained on her side. The mattress moved as he turned to lie on his back.

“Well, are you?” He persisted.

“Gods, Jaime! You _never_ shut up!”

“Come on, answer me. Are you?”

“No! Where’d you get _that_ idea?”

“Because you’re often together, and he looks like he wants to get in your pants.” He sounded disapproving.

“Don’t be ridiculous. And even if he does want to “get in my pants,” I can handle him.” Brienne lightly punched the pillow.

“That’s my girl.”

“I’m not your girl, asshole,” she growled

He chuckled. “A pity.”

“Shut up and go to sleep already.” She yawned.

“So, you’re not fucking Hyle. Have you ever... fucked anyone?”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Is there like a list of twenty inappropriate and rude questions to be in bed with Jaime Lannister?”

“You’re already in my bed, wench.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“But you are.”

“Hmm.” She yawned.

“Have you fucked anyone, then?”

“If I say yes, will you let me sleep?”

“Hells, no. I’d like to know who these bastards are. I want the dirty details!”

She huffed. “No.”

_“No?”_

Brienne squeezed her eyes shut, thankful for the cover of darkness. “You’ve seen me, right? Do you think anyone would even dream of fucking me? She tucked the sheet even more tightly around her body. “Good night, Jaime.”

By the time Jaime managed to speak, she was already asleep.

   
                                                                                                              ***

 

 The morning was all sunshine with clear blue skies, and Brienne winced from the blinding light, turning away from it. Jaime groaned, curling into a half-ball as he scurried to the wall, and it seemed only natural for her arm to fall around his waist. Because they were still half-asleep, neither really noticed.

Brienne woke up half an hour later. She was on her back when she felt a heavy, hard form was smooshed to her side. Sleepily, she turned her head and saw Jaime sleeping peacefully. It was so fucking unfair that even with his hair messily sticking out everywhere and snoring loudly, he was still so incredibly handsome. Only when Brienne looked away and started to move, did she realize several predicaments. First, her bladder was close to bursting; second, Jaime was clinging to her like a baby koala, and third, there was no way she could get him off her without waking him up.

“Jaime,” she whispered, flushing. Gently, she began raising his arm from her waist.

“Hmm, wench.” Jaime nuzzled her ear and threw his leg across her thighs. Brienne’s eyes popped open wide as something warm and _really hard_ bumped her hip. “Go to sleep.”

“Jaime.” This time, her voice was urgent. She shook him none too gently. “Get off.”

“But you’re warm.” He sniffed. “And you smell nice too.”

“You have _a boner,_ you pervert,” she hissed

His eyes flew open. Frowning at first, he then proceeded to turn red. “Sorry, but it’s a morning boner. Nothing to do with you at all, wench.”

“I know that.” She slapped at his stubborn arm. “Let go of me, I have to pee!”

Jaime laughed and rolled off her as Brienne dashed out of the room. She flung the door open, startling the other people who were already out in the hallway. As she ran, praying for her bladder to hold on, a trail of whispers and murmurs began, eyes darting from her shrinking form to Jaime’s door.

Brienne groaned upon finding an empty stall and plunked her butt right on the toilet. Gods, what did she drink last night to be peeing this much? She ignored the curious looks being thrown at her by the men and some of their girlfriends as she came out of the bathroom. The cool water she used to wash her face did nothing to diminish her too-warm cheeks.

She could feel eyes following her on the way back to Jaime’s room, and Brienne tried to hunch as low as she could, cursing to herself. Her hands shook as she grasped Jaime’s doorknob and let herself in.

Brienne froze in place when she came face to face with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Yes, her green eyes were bloodshot, her pallor a bit pale and sickly, and she was a little unsteady on her feet, but none of that got in the way of the carved perfection of her delicate features. Her glorious, silky gold waves spilled messily down her shoulders, but they could easily pass for artfully tousled. Her eyes widened upon settling on Brienne before they narrowed into slits.

Brienne saw the surprise on the woman's face cross over to curiosity before settling on disgust, while her ruby lips curled in a sneer. How could someone who looked so much like Jaime look at her in such a hateful way?

“Is this the reason you’re kicking me out, brother?” she said, giving Brienne a slow, assessing glance that indicated her disdain. She grimaced at Brienne’s messy bob and the rough, straw-like texture of her blond hair, her freckles, and big, crooked nose. Even though Jaime’s sister wasn’t very tall, she carried herself like a woman with a regal bearing, and she certainly made Brienne feel as small and insignificant as a bug on the floor.

With a dismissive glance, she turned back to Jaime and shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, father will not be pleased that you’re fucking lesser stock.”

As her meaning sank in Brienne’s brain, Jaime gave his sister a warning look. “Her name is _Brienne_. Brienne, this charming, well-mannered creature is my sister, Cersei Lannister.”

 _“Twin_ sister. So... it has a name.” Cersei was back to sneering at Brienne again. “Tell me, how long have you been fucking my brother?”

“Cersei,” Jaime warned, as he moved to stand between her and Brienne while the latter stared open-mouthed at Cersei. He put his hands on his sister’s shoulders and urged her toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later, but not now, ok? Just go.”

“Whatever Jaime. I do know how far down the list I am.” Cersei snapped, shaking off his hands. She glared at Brienne then slammed the door behind her, causing the furniture to tremble.

Jaime sighed loudly. Recovering, Brienne demanded, “What on earth was that all about?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that, wench. My sister’s just being dramatic.” He turned to her then. His blond hair was messy, and he needed a shave. Nevertheless, in his rumpled t-shirt and plaid pajamas, Jaime looked. . . _sexy._

_"How long have you been fucking my brother?"_

Embarrassed, Brienne walked her way around him. “Um, I should probably go.”

“She’s not coming back. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my sister.”

“She obviously needs you.”

“And I need peace, coffee and food,” Jaime snapped turning toward the kitchenette. “Is it okay if the muffins are a day old, wench? They’re still good, but I just need to warm them up.”

“Jaime, you don’t have to bother," Brienne protested.

He gave her a look of both exasperation and impatience. “You don’t like it when people do anything for you, do you?”

“What? No. I’m just. . .” She gestured at the door.

Jaime put the muffins in the microwave. “What?”

“You didn’t hear what your sister said to me?”

“I did. It was rude, and I apologize on her behalf.” Jaime sounded contrite, but Brienne pressed on.

“Why would she assume we’re having sex?”

“Wench, you are one sweet summer child, you know that?” Jaime told her, laughing. He pointed at the loveseat. “Sit your ass down while I get breakfast.”

 

                                                                                                               ***

 

They had a paper due the following week. Brienne, who always knew how to manage her time, turned her own in four days before the deadline. Jaime wouldn’t stop teasing her, and she had to remind him that if he didn’t shut up, she wasn’t going to help him with his paper.

Sleeping over in each other’s room soon became routine for them. Jaime was delighted that because she was taller and broader, he could always count on pajamas and a change of clothes when he slept over at her dorm. But there was nothing to be done about the fluffy pink bathrobe with blue stars he had to wear when one morning, he had insisted on taking a shower. It was either that or send him to the bathroom with just a towel. To prevent mass heart attacks among the resident females, Brienne cloaked Jaime in her too-feminine bathrobe, which predictably looked way better on him anyway. Still, one girl had to race back to her room for an inhaler when Jaime gave her a playful wink as he passed her in the hall.

It didn’t take long for speculation regarding their relationship to become a hot topic. Brienne figured Jaime would set people straight, and she was too embarrassed to tell him about the rumors. It also didn’t help that Jaime went around in her clothes—once including her running shoes.

One afternoon, Hyle and Brienne were having a late lunch after barely seeing each other. As they put their trays on the table and sat down, he glared past Brienne’s shoulder.

“What's wrong?”

“Why is Jaime Lannister wearing your Dothraki Bloodriders t-shirt?” The Dothraki Bloodriders was Brienne’s favorite football team.

Fire licked at her ears as she squirmed in her seat. Damn, Jaime still had the t-shirt. Loading up her fork with bits of the salad, she said, “Uh, Hyle? I’m probably not the only one in this school who likes the team.”

“You said that shirt is a limited edition.” Hyle looked at her then. “Care to tell me something, Brienne?”

Not liking his tone, she demanded, “Hey, why exactly do I have to explain myself to you? You’re not my boyfriend, Hyle.”

They were glaring at each other when Jaime suddenly sat down next to her.

And then kissed her on the cheek. “How’s my favorite wench?”

Hyle snatched his tray and stalked off. As Brienne sighed, Jaime looked at his departing form then at her. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” She answered truthfully, picking out the beets from her salad.

“You alright?”

She nodded.

“You’re sure?”

“If I say yes, will you shut up?”

“For once, yes.” Jaime plucked the rejected beets and popped them in his mouth. “So, I was thinking.”

“Really? Careful not to strain yourself. I have a feeling your brain muscles are quite underdeveloped.”

“Haha! You’re funny, wench. I was actually thinking of doing something nice for you. As a thank you for being so patient and hauling my ass to the library.” Jaime played with the wispy lock of her pale hair. He laughed as she slapped his hand away. “Why don’t we have dinner after I turn in my paper?”

“Jaime, I think you need to oil your brain some more. We’ve been having dinner with each other for a month now.”

“You’re so mean. To think I was going to pay.” He was clearly unaffected by her grumpy mood. She was still staring after Hyle when his leg nudged hers. “Come on.”

“Sorry. I mean, yeah, sure, dinner. You don’t have to, but thanks.”

Jaime put his chin on his fist. “Thought I’d take my girl out to someplace really fancy. Like the Iron Throne.”

Brienne laughed. “Well, I do have a ball gown that’s been gathering dust in my closet.”

“Excellent.”

Something about his tone made her ears perk up. She turned to him slowly, and saw that Jaime looked way too happy.

“Jaime are you serious? The Iron Throne?”

“It’s the best restaurant in Westeros.”

Panicking, she blurted out, “I have nothing to wear to a place like that!”

He tilted his head as he looked at her body. “I have to admit that I can’t imagine you in a dress, but you do _have_ a dress, right?”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“Seriously.”

“Wow.” He grinned. “I kind of feel really privileged right now. Don’t tell me I’m the only one to have seen your amazingly long legs?”

Brienne scowled. “When did you see my legs?”

His grin widened. “While you were changing into my pajamas just recently. Every time I try to say something, you tell me to shut up. Guess the cat’s out of the bag, wench because there’s a mirror in the room so I can see _everything_ ,” he said in a low, seductive voice.

Brienne wanted to die.

“I’ve never seen so many freckles in my life. I mean, it’s only a small mirror, but I’ve seen enough to know you have been very selfish about your legs,” he said, grinning at her.

“No.” Brienne insisted. “I’m not wearing a dress, and we are _not_ going to the Iron Throne.” She kicked him under the table. “And fuck you for peeping, pervert!”

“Didn’t really get to see the goods, wench. But what I _can_ say is that tits like yours are too small for bras. Although I do enjoy the idea that your nipples are always hard because you’re happy to see me.”

Brienne kicked him again, this time genuinely furious. “Asshole!” Her face was a dark, very vivid shade of red and made her look uglier than usual. It was bad enough that he violated her trust, but for him to talk about her body that way—it was too much. As Jaime rubbed his leg, wincing in pain, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

Jaime froze. “Hey, what the fuck did I do? Where are you going?”

She ignored him and stormed off. Jaime cursed and went after her.

“Brienne, come on.” He said, trying to catch up with her. She pushed open the swinging double doors of the cafeteria and hurried outside.

“I was just joking, come on!” Jaime protested.

That did it. She suddenly turned to face him. Jaime yelped as he was forced to stop suddenly. The amusement in his face flitted away upon seeing her red-rimmed eyes and quivering lower lip. Realizing she was genuinely upset, he began to speak. “Brienne—“

“It’s always a joke to people like you. My whole life people have been calling me ugly and ridiculous, and I’ve learned to deal with it. I made peace with how I look. But I will never allow anyone to have fun at my expense!” She was struggling not to cry. “I thought we were friends.”

“We _are_ friends! I just thought—“

“What? What did you think? Do you have any idea what it's like to be called a cow without tits, a sow in silk? Do you know how it is to be told to strip, so people will know for sure if I have a cunt or a cock?” Brienne stepped forward until they were nose to nose. Her blue eyes were cold as glaciers.“Do you, Jaime? _Do you?”_

Jaime grimaced, ashamed. “I’m really sorry, Brienne.”

She turned and continued walking. To her annoyance, he fell into step beside her. His long strides easily kept up with hers.

“You’re right, I have no excuse, and I’m sorry. Please Brienne, you have to believe me!”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept walking, her eyes on her feet.

“It was wrong to violate your trust, and I know you think I was making fun of you. I swear to you I wasn’t. I was admiring—“

“Really? You think a girl hears admiration when some guy tells her she’s s too small for a bra?” She demanded.

“I could have been more sensitive when I said that.” Jaime kicked a pebble out of the way.

“Or maybe shut up?”

“Come to think of it, that is the best option.”

Brienne continued to stare sullenly at her feet.

“I would hate to lose you as a friend.”

She gave him a side-eye. “Friends should be able to trust each other.”

“I trust you.”

She paused to turn to him. “Friends respect each other.”

“I respect you and admire you, Brienne.” Jaime sounded sincere. “I think you’re amazing. You could use some shaking up once in a while, but you’re incredible, wench.” She snorted incredulously, but Jaime insisted,“It’s true! Do you know that you’re the most interesting person I’ve met?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “You don’t have to butter me up anymore, Jaime. Fine, I forgive you.”

“Listen to me, will you?” He grabbed her by the hand to make her face him. His green eyes bored into her surprised blue ones. “I think you’re fascinating, Brienne and your eyes,” he brushed a thumb on her cheek, voice filled with awe. “So fucking blue. Clear. Expressive. By the way, you’re shit at lying, you know? Your eyes always betray you.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Of course it’s a compliment. Do you know how many people smile at me but call me a fucking spoiled brat behind my back?” Jaime shook his head. “My point is,” he said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it, “that it’s really nice being with someone who won’t take my bullshit. You’re the only person who’s honest with me. You and my little brother Tyrion. I’m really glad we’re friends Brienne.”

Her cheeks heated as a lean hand rose to touch her there while she dropped her eyes.

“Come on. Have dinner with me at the Iron Throne.” His voice dropped to a gentle, very intimate tone that made her think they were the only two people in the world. Brienne looked in his eyes and saw him looking at her softly, as if... but no. It was just the sun.

Great, now she was hallucinating.

“I really mean it when I said I have nothing to wear,” she admitted helplessly. Expecting Jaime to drop his hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear. Then his arm lowered to her waist and gripped her there. He had to raise his head a little so he could look at her right in the eye. Feeling a little confused and breathless, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” He murmured, putting his other arm around her waist.

“This.” She put her hands on his arms but didn’t try to push them away. The day was cool and they were wearing coats, sweaters, thick pants yet his warmth seeped through the layers of clothes.

“Don’t you like it?”

“Should I like it?”

He grinned, his deep dimples framing his lips beautifully. Her heart raced, and his head momentarily dropped on her shoulder before he was looking up at her again.

“Okay. If not the Iron Throne, where do you want to go?”

“Jaime, you don’t have to take me out to thank me. Just do that fucking paper well, and I know you will. I believe in you.”

“That’s quite rare, what you just said. Definitely worth celebrating, wench.”

She flicked him between the eyes. “Brienne.”

“If you say so.” He smirked. “Wench.”

“You’re hopeless.” She shook her head.

“But you’ll never give up on me.”

The red that quickly bloomed from her cheeks was answer enough.

“So, tell me wench. Where do you want to go?” He squeezed her briefly and Brienne swore she nearly dissolved in a puddle of delight and shame.

“Well... if you insist on celebrating.” Hesitantly, she let her hand settle on his broad shoulder. Jaime smiled.

“Yeah?”

“I was planning to have an Oathkeeper marathon all by my lonesome,” Brienne said playfully. “But you have a nice big TV in your room. . .”

 _“Hells, yes.”_ Jaime nodded. He had recently started watching the popular series about a noble female knight during the War of the Five Kings. Brienne followed the show from the beginning, so she was halfway through the season. But the cable channel was having a marathon weekend of all ten episodes before the two-part season finale. Jaime had laughed at the idea of a female knight at first because for him it was just a strange concept. But Brienne’s passion for it, and how the show illustrated some of the theories they were studying in class, swayed him.

“That’s a great idea," Jaime said. "Can we make a slumber party out of it?”

Brienne didn’t know what to say. For the first time, she would be sleeping over at Jaime’s not because their session ran late or because it was raining or he was too tired to walk her to her dorm. He was actually inviting her over to just hang out.

“We’ll have pizza and fried chicken, all the potato chips we can eat—even your stinky favorite, the salt-and-vinegar kind—and Oathkeeper and our pajamas!” Jaime said. “Yeah, this is fucking better than having some stiff dinner at the Iron Throne.”

“Those salt-and-vinegar chips are good!”

“You’re weird,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Then without warning, he hauled her close and planted his lips right on hers.

  
  
                                                                                                                ***

Hyle Hunt, still upset over how Brienne didn’t go after him when he stormed out of the cafeteria, came up a few feet behind them. His jaw dropped open upon recognizing the two tall blondes standing in the middle of the path in a resolute lip-lock. From the other end, Cersei, who had been rushing back to her dorm for cigarettes, stared at them her eyes menacing like emerald daggers. Slowly, she turned on her heel and stormed down the opposite direction.

Brienne’s mouth was just partially open, unmoving at Jaime’s soft, coaxing kisses. She had no idea what was happening. From the moment Jaime’s lips touched hers, she ceased to know anything else. Anything except for the smooth, moist glide of his mouth. His fingertips were feather-light as they danced across her cheeks before smoothing her hair back.

This had to be dream, but she felt Jaime so warm, alive and just _there._ Jaime slyly, gently, touched the tip of his tongue to hers. It was an almost-nothing touch, but she felt it deep in her bones. The too-brief stroke was all it took for everything to come whooshing back: the cool, crisp air of fall touched with the bite of the coming winter, the sounds of students laughing and talking as they went around. The rustle of her coat against Jaime’s as he pulled her closer. His heart close to hers, was a chorus to the stampede and pounding of Brienne's own.

She didn't know why he was kissing her, but right now, for the first time in her life, she was unburdened from doubts and fears. All the desires she kept a firm lid on and denied herself, the whispers she choked back—they came at her like a like a tsunami, intent on sweeping her away.

 _“Jaime,”_ she whispered, allowing the long-buried longing in her heart, to just be free.

  
  
                                                                                                                 ***

 Brienne spent the rest of the day in a daze and she moved as if through water. Twice, the professor had to call her name in class, prompting laughter from everyone and causing her face to burn. Focusing was next to impossible. Time was supposed to make memory fade away, right? But it was just the opposite because the longer she was away from Jaime, the more she thought about the kiss; the more she was tortured by the memory of his lips, so soft and warm against hers, moving so exquisitely as if he had been kissing her their whole lives.

Kissing Jaime Lannister was like getting high after just taking one hit of wildfire. And Brienne had never done wildfire or any substances ever. All day her heart beat faster, she was more pink than usual, and several times she had to stop herself from literally bursting into song or skipping down the hallways.  
  
Fuck the gods; she really was becoming one of those idiot women from cheap paperback romance novels. 

_I don’t care! Tonight, we’ll be in our pajamas, and we’re going to kiss again._

Afterwards, they had just leaned against each other. Brienne was panting loudly, crushing the collar of Jaime’s coat as he rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in fast like hers was. But Jaime undoubtedly had more finesse, and this was her first kiss. _Her very first kiss._

As they stepped away from one another, Brienne’s legs suddenly gave out and she landed with a hard thump on the ground. “Ouch!” Jaime said, grimacing and Brienne wished for the ground to swallow her up, but she willed herself to look at Jaime in the eyes, daring him to laugh. His green eyes were bright, and he made a pathetic attempt to control his smile.

“Laugh, and I will end you,” Brienne snapped as she struggled to rise. Seven Hells, what the fuck had happened to her legs?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More flashbacks and a bit of present day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last long chapter we'll have. It needed to be long because there were a lot of thing we had to cover from their college years so the present can make more sense. Uh, it may not make total sense yet, but it will. Promise.  
> Hope you like it!
> 
> p.s. Smut here courtesy of CaptainTarthister. Bye! *runs away*

The service was slow at Wolf’s Diner, but Brienne didn’t care. She was happy reading her book, seated in the booth that she and Jaime always shared. Waiting for her to-go order—two cheeseburgers and an order of large fries for Jaime—she looked around the diner with a small grin. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone familiar leaving the restroom. Brienne’s hand shot up in a friendly wave.

“Hyle!”

Hyle Hunt was on his way out, but he'd turned around once he heard someone say his name. Slowly, he could see Brienne waving at him from across the diner. “Over here!” Brienne laughed once she saw how reluctant Hyle was to wave back. With a grudging air, he slowly walked to her table with shifting eyes while Brienne’s smile only grew wider.

“It’s been _forever._ Where’ve you been?” Brienne demanded with a playful voice.

Hyle’s eyes narrowed on hers with a thorny silence before he replied in a sour tone. “Nowhere,” he answered with a cool shrug. “Around.” Unaware of the anger directed at her, Brienne continued with a smile.

“I’ve missed you," she said.

“Huh. _Really?”_

The light in her eyes started to fade once she'd noticed that there something was off about him. Before she could ask what was wrong, Hyle blocked her exit from the booth before he sat down across from her. Reading the cold look of detachment in his hazel eyes, Brienne’s smile started to dwindle.

“Listen… I know we haven’t seen much of each other, and I take all the blame for that—” Hyle waved off Brienne's excuse with an irritated look. “Look," Hyle said. "When you told me that you weren’t interested in going out with me... I respected that. I thought, ok, she's not into me, I get it. But come on, Brienne… _Jaime Lannister?”_

Astonished by his revolted tone, Brienne could only feel a hot flush start to rise in her cheeks. “ _Why_ is that a problem Hyle?”

He glared at her with a look of contempt. “Really? _‘Why is that a problem?’_ Because I fucking _hate_ that guy, Brienne! Weren’t you the one who always said that he was nothing more than just an arrogant asshole?” Brienne flinched while Hyle continued. “Every time I see you now, either you’re following him around like a lovesick puppy, or you two are sucking each other’s faces off in front of everyone. I mean… _come on_ , Brienne. I know everyone likes to think that Lannister is this ‘hot guy,’ but I never thought you’d be so damn shallow.”

 _“Hey!_ You don’t know anything about Jaime. Not the way that _I_ know him.” Hyle rolled his eyes with a bitter laugh. “There’s more to him than you’ll ever know.”

“Funny, because that’s what I _used_ to say to others when I had to defend _you_.”

Brienne’s face paled.

“You used to be someone I respected—someone that I used to admire _._ But now look at you! You’re just like all of the other girls at this school. From the moment that pretty boy crooked his finger at you, it was a done deal, wasn’t it?” Brienne’s mouth fell open in a mute rebuttal. “You know what? The Brienne _I knew_ would be embarrassed to meet the woman who’s sitting across from me right now.”

Brienne gaped at Hyle in total shock. He was completely out of line. Making assumptions about Jaime was one thing, but for Hyle to assume that he was an authority on her, was something that she refused to ignore.

“Listen, Hyle… you and me? _We’re friends._ Or at least, I thought we were—but you don’t know anything about me, and you don’t know anything about Jaime Lannister. I wanted to say ‘hi’ because I was happy to see you, but instead…” Brienne's voice started to fade. "Is this how it’s going to be now?”

Hyle continued his rant with a petty snort “Whatever. Don’t come crawling back to me when this idea you have of Lannister blows up in your face. _You’re an idiot_ if you don’t think he’ll leave you after he breaks your stupid heart.”

“And you’re a fucking asshole for saying that. _You don’t even know him.”_

Hyle got up to his feet. “Someday, you’ll thank me for this. And sure; you’re his girlfriend. _Now._ But ask yourself this: when was the last time Jaime was ever satisfied with anything he had?” Brienne struggled for words as Hyle looked down on her in self-righteousness. “Yeah… just as I thought. Well, take care of yourself Brienne. Don’t come crying to me when he finally leaves you.”

“Fuck you,” Brienne growled at him with steel in her eyes. For a moment Hyle was taken aback by her before he nodded his head with a thin smile and a grim voice.

“Yeah... just as I thought: you’re no longer the girl I once knew.”

 

***

 

In spite of his hurtful words, Brienne could perhaps in some way understand Hyle’s disgust with her. She too used to think that couples were stupid and annoying with their gross habit of kissing and pawing at each other in public. But now, that she’d unexpectedly joined the ranks of the Couple’s Club, she finally understood why they all did it.

It was because it always felt so damn _good_.

Brienne considered this as she was lying flat on her back, fingers buried deep in Jaime’s hair while her tongue shyly sparred with the playful parry of his. With a hand snaked beneath her shirt while his fingers stroked and teased her breasts, neither one managed to do much studying with half of their clothing and all of their books scattered on the floor.

The first time Jaime touched her like this, they were in the middle of a hot make-out session in their corner of the library. Brienne had frozen up once she first felt his hand grazing over her breasts, and sensing her reluctance, he quickly slipped his hand out of her shirt and apologized profusely. But by the next time they were alone, it was Brienne who took the initiative and led Jaime’s hand back under her shirt. In a small voice, she told him that it was ‘okay’ if he wanted to.

She was still trying to feel her way around whatever it was the two of them now had. Brienne didn’t have any experience with the opposite sex, but her gut had always told her that Jaime was a good guy. He never pushed her or try to wheedle her into anything that she was uncomfortable with.

Jaime raised himself from a deep kiss to look at her. She couldn’t help holding her breath, scanning his face for any signs that he’d been playing her all along like a cruel game or a sick joke. From the moment they’d first kissed, it had all felt so surreal. As the uncertainty skidded across her face, Brienne briefly turned away while Jaime’s hand started to tighten around her breast, prompting her to look at him.

“I always thought I could read your eyes,” he murmured. “But this time, I have no idea what they’re saying. Only that... you’re not really here.”

Brienne huffed with frustration. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, hoping she didn’t sound breathless as he stroked her nipple with his thumb. She turned to lay on her side while Jaime hummed and spooned up behind her. “Tell me.”

“Jaime, I-I’ve... I’ve never done this before.” Brienne said, blushing furiously while Jaime started to kiss the back of her neck.

“I know you haven’t. You've already told me that you’ve…never been with anyone.” His dry kisses started to wander closer towards her ear. “You know I don’t have a problem with that, wench.”

“I’ve _never_ done anything like this,” she confessed, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“Anything like what? Like, let a guy put a hand under your shirt? Or making out?” Jaime pressed his arousal against her as she gasped and turned her head around to look at him. “Jaime—” Brienne started, but her voice quickly trailed off, not knowing how to tell him about her lingering doubts, her fear of rejection or her crippling thoughts of being mocked by him in the bedroom.

“I care about you, Brienne.” His arm tightened around her stomach while he tugged her closer. A blush had spread across her face while she pushed back on his erection with a muffled sigh. “I wont do anything that'll hurt you.” His lips trailed over the wide shell of her ear. “I promise.”

His voice sounded so sincere. Jaime had given her no reason to think he’d deliberately hurt her, but still, Brienne was worried. She turned around entirely to face him while a new blush layered the one she still wore, the mattress squeaking under her weight. Running her fingers through his hair, she could see how relaxed and happy he was; it was a very different look compared to his smug, predictable smile.

“I just think... what if I’m doing things wrong? I don’t want you to think I’m an idiot or something.”

Jaime frowned. “Why would I think that?”

“Come on. We both know I’m not good at. . .” Brienne sighed. “...anything.”

Jaime grinned at her. “Well, that’s why you’ll need lots of _tutoring_ then, which I’ll be delighted to provide!”

Her eyes looked impossibly blue as she told him her biggest fear. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Brienne…I have to say. . .” Jaime sighed as if he was tired, looking at her with shining green eyes.

“What? _Tell me!”_ Brienne demanded, while Jaime seemingly started to fluster. _"Well,_ I thought this afternoon I’d be making out with my girlfriend. Instead, she’s telling me these lame-ass thoughts about disappointing me, so I'm feeling a bit depressed here.” he said, shaking his head.

Brienne burst out laughing, while Jaime held her tight in his arms. Just as they were about to kiss again, she suddenly gasped and pulled away from him.

“What did you just call me?”

Jaime frowned, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“You _just_ said that I’m your. . .” Her voice trailed off, not even able to say the words.

Jaime rolled his eyes. “What? You mean you’re _not_ my girlfriend?” he said playfully.

Brienne smiled sweetly. _Gods…_ She couldn’t help but think Jaime was just the most presumptuous, arrogant ass. . . And yet the sweetest, most loving person that she’d ever met. Narrowing her eyes at him, she tucked her face into his neck, while he laughed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

 

***

 

Hyle Hunt was right about one thing; a new, unrecognizable brazenness had started taking possession of Brienne once she’d felt more secure of Jaime’s feelings for her. She was determined to ace the test of being ‘Jaime Lannister’s Girlfriend’ just like she’d aced all of her assignments in class. But such dedication had meant learning a lot of new things... things that she’d once considered to be disgusting or taboo.

The first time Brienne had seen Jaime’s cock, she couldn’t help but stare at it. She’d never doubted every inch of him was beautiful, but his cock was more… _impressive_ than she'd first imagined. While her eyes grew wide, her hand was clammy as Jaime took it in his own and showed her how to touch him.

They were seated together inside the library one Saturday morning while Brienne was feeling tense. Professor Stark was expected to be returning their papers on Monday morning.  She tried to distract herself by studying for another class, so Jaime decided that he'd tag along. She had spent only ten minutes reading a long passage from her textbook before Jaime knocked it out of her hands and started kissing her.

The library was practically empty, and they were tucked away in the private study rooms at the back of the library. Tugging her onto his lap, Jaime sucked her nipples through her t-shirt while she breathlessly accused him of not letting her get any work done.

“Oh, like _you_ don’t distract me?” He pointed out, raising his chin to look at her. Brienne blushed and swung one leg off him so she could stand. “We’ve been spending more time studying _each other_ rather than our books,” she grumbled, picking up her textbook off the floor. But before she could sit down, Jaime suddenly turned on her.

“On the contrary, wench,” he drawled, raising her top briefly to lick her bellybutton. Brienne’s hands started to move on their own accord before she sank her fingers into his soft hair. “See, _you_ have been very studying me _attentively_ , but you won’t even let me glance just at a tiny bit of _you_ ,” he added in a half-scolding tone. She frowned at him while trying to figure out what he meant by that.

The look he had gave her then was so lascivious that from anyone else, she would’ve been seriously offended by it. Though their relationship had become intense lately, it was a relationship that was still playful and rather fun. It also helped that she’d learned to trust him more and more each day. 

As Brienne was pondering over this, Jaime bent down and in one swift motion, he yanked down her track pants to her knees. While her hands flew up to her mouth in shock, she looked over towards the door in fear. She'd confirmed that the door to the study room was closed and locked, but there was still a clear glass pane covering almost one-half of the door.

“What the fuck are you doing!” she hissed down at him. Jaime looked up at her while Brienne’s hands gripped the edge of the desk while he toyed with the hem of her plain white underwear.

“You know,” he said conversationally, teasing her juncture with his hot breath, “One of the books from your annoying reading list included one about sexuality in Westeros during the War of the Five Kings,” he said. “Now, as any red-blooded male will tell you, anything about fucking will always be intriguing to us. Though I have to admit, I was surprised with one of the chapters that you assigned...,” he paused while giving her a naughty smile. “It wasn’t exactly an  _academic one._ Not your usual taste, wench.” Brienne’s eyes widened as he started to peel down her underwear.

“N-No. I-I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered.

“You’re _really_ bad at lying, Brienne.” Jaime’s smile was nothing but pure, wicked delight. “But if that’s how you want to play it, fine. I think though, _for academic purposes_ , you should have more of a… hands-on experience?” he said, his eyes now focused on the heated apex between her thighs. “I think you know this chapter, wench. It’s called _The Lord’s Kiss.”_

Brienne shivered as she felt him nuzzle his nose against her curls. She was hairy because it had never crossed her mind to wax or trim down there. Her eyes focused on the wall behind Jaime as he continued to smell her, growing familiar with her unique scent. _The Lord’s Kiss. Surely he wouldn’t—_

Jaime’s hands scooped up her hips, and then, she felt it. Brienne’s head fell backwards, her eyes closing as Jaime’s lips pressed up against her cunt.

He kissed her there the same way he always kissed her mouth: gently, with coaxing, teasing brushes of lips and tongue. Jaime’s fingers dug hard into the firm flesh of her ass, gripping her in place while his head turned from side to side while she continued to fall backwards on the table.

As their study room filled with the sound of her hot pants and little sighs, Jaime smiled as she breathed hard, all rubbery legs and a sudden inability to make her brain work. After Jaime was completely satisfied that he had, in fact, taught her something new, Brienne sighed as he nuzzled her thighs with teasing kisses.

“Now _that_ was just the introduction to the chapter, wench,” Jaime said, pointing at the dark patch on his jeans while Brienne’s crimson color deepened even more. “I believe that whatever’s left in that book of yours could actually kill me.”

“Will you stop talking and hand me my clothes?”

Jaime smiled wickedly and handed them to her. She snatched them from his hand while she said, “Turn around.”

“What the fuck for?” He looked genuinely surprised while Brienne whined, “Jaime, please?”

Jaime sighed loudly but did as she'd asked. “I can’t believe you’re asking me not to look when I’ve already seen you half naked” Jaime griped as she finished getting dressed.

“I’m still entitled to some privacy,” she pointed out, hurriedly combing her fingers through her hair. “Alright. Am I decent?”

Jaime turned to her and shook his head. The look he gave her was so scalding she was sure it had the power to burn right through her. After giving her a deep kiss, Jaime tore his mouth away to rest his forehead against hers. Brienne whimpered as he started to bite down on her lower lip.

“No Brienne, you don't look 'decent'. You look thoroughly and perfectly ravished.” He grinned. “And I fucking love it.”

 

***

 

Even though Brienne had no desire to do an encore of their public display, she was quick to forget her shyness from the moment they stepped inside Jaime’s bedroom. He kissed away every one of her protests and quickly drove them out of her mind as soon as his mouth explored her body. Brienne’s spine melted against the back of his couch once she surrendered to Jaime’s touch. One night, he told her that they could even pleasure each other at the same time.

“How?” she had asked, truly curious.

Jaime smiled at her. “Allow me to show you, wench. The bed might be a bit small for this, but I think we’ll manage.”

In the end, they did not only destroy his bed, but they also ended up destroying each other. Brienne took a last, loud suck of his softened cock before letting it pop free from her mouth. Both of her legs were shaking, and the rest of her body seemed to follow soon after. Groaning from exhaustion, she plopped down and rolled over to lay beside him. They were both panting, but he still took her hand and placed it on his chest.

“Guess we can call it 'even' on that one,” she gasped. Jaime nodded wearily while kissing her hand. They were both covered in sweat. “Definitely.”

They fell asleep curled up around each other while the room was dark and the temperature was cool. Suddenly they heard the loud ring of a phone destroy the quiet of their perfect little world. Brienne murmured nonsense to him, huddling towards her side of the bed as Jaime cursed and pawed the nightstand for his phone. “Seven bloody hells,” he hissed.

Brienne turned her head. The light from the phone revealed the source of Jaime’s ire. “I’m sorry about this,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Hello, father.”

Brienne felt so sorry for him just then. Jaime didn’t get along with his father and hated every minute he was forced to spend with him. She’d heard of the Lannister patriarch’s ruthless reputation, and ever since she and Jaime had become a couple, she wondered how was it possible for Tywin Lannister to father someone like Jaime. Yes, Jaime could be an arrogant, impossible asshole, but there was nothing cruel or unkind about him.

Feeling uncomfortable, Brienne hurriedly got dressed and kissed Jaime's cheek while he mouthed his protest to her on her way out. If Tywin Lannister was going to be in town, Brienne knew she could expect Jaime to be forced to spend 'quality time' with his father. It’d also meant that Brienne probably wouldn’t see him again until late Sunday night or early Monday morning.

Still worried about Jaime and the essay Professor Stark would be returning soon, Brienne distracted herself by doing the laundry on Saturday night, and by Sunday morning she got a text from Jaime, explaining that he wouldn’t be arriving on campus until later but he really wanted to see her. He wanted to know if they could have dinner together?

Brienne was quick to agree, because she'd missed him too.

 

***

 

Brienne was really starving by the time she'd arrived at Jaime’s building on Sunday night while she punched the button to his floor inside the elevator. When she arrived, a few people were standing outside in the hallway while everyone looked at Jaime’s door. There was a loud argument going on inside. She recognized Jaime’s voice, but it was mixed with a young woman’s angry scream.

“Hey, Bree.” Addam Marbrand, a neighbor who lived next to Jaime, greeted her. “Bad timing, the golden twins are at it again.”

“Twins? Oh.” Brienne flushed, realizing now who else was inside.

If Jaime didn’t like talking about his father, then he certainly hated talking about his sister even more. Brienne remembered the first time she met Cersei Lannister; she remembered it almost too well and wasn’t looking forward to a second time. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Cersei stormed out, her beautiful face bright pink and furious with a scornful look. Her expression suddenly transformed into a cruel mask once she laid eyes on Brienne.

“You!” she yelled, walking fast toward her, but Brienne stood her ground.

In a flash, Addam was holding back Cersei’s arms while she fought to raise them, clearly intent on striking Brienne in the face. Even though Addam had a tight hold on her, Cersei continued to thrash and scream maniacally. “This is all your fault! _You fucking, ugly whore!“_

“ _What the hell, Cersei_!” Jaime yelled, drawn out to the hallway by her screams. Cersei squirmed in Addam's grasp, trying furiously to kick him.

“Let go of me, you miserable worm!”

Addam turned to Jaime with a pointed look. “She tried to hit Brienne.” Addam explained, struggling to keep Cersei still.

Jaime looked at Brienne, his expression furious, but also visibly tired. Seeing that Brienne wasn’t injured, he quietly spoke to Addam, “Let her go.”

Addam quickly dropped her arms and Cersei glared at him before marching towards Jaime. She gave him an icy glare before she raised a hand and slapped him hard across the face. Brienne snarled and dove forward, but Jaime stepped back and shook his head at her.

“Fuck you, brother,” Cersei hissed. On her way out, Jaime’s sister threw Brienne a dirty look before she turned and finally left.

 

***

 

With the imprint of Cersei’s hand still on his cheek, Jaime looked at everyone in the hallway with a dull expression on his face. “Ok, show’s over. You can all go back to your rooms now.” There was a slow shuffle to vacate the hallway as people dragged on, pretending as if nothing happened. Brienne threw Addam a grateful look before she followed Jaime inside.

“What happened?” She asked, watching Jaime dive into his fridge. He was looking for ice.

“ _Don’t_. I don’t want to talk about it,” he responded in a tone that meant the subject was closed.

She wouldn’t be so easily deterred. “It sounded like someone was getting murdered in here. Your sister comes storming out, and the first thing she does is try to hit me. But instead, she hurts _you_.”

“Brienne—”

“Get out of the way.”

Jaime sighed and moved from the fridge while Brienne pulled out an ice tray and started popping out ice cubes. He shuffled to his bed and sat down slowly; Brienne had found one of the dirty t-shirts he'd flung across the sofa last night. She used it to wrap the ice in a makeshift ice pack. Brienne walked over to Jaime and pressed the ice pack closer to his face, giving him a worried look as he hissed in pain. She could see the hurt glimmer in his eyes, and she felt completely powerless to stop it.

“How often does she have these… outbursts?” Brienne asked quietly.

Jaime flinched as if her words had hit him but still, she pressed on. “Jaime? Please?”

Holding the ice pack to his face, Jaime answered with a quiet voice. “I told you, she’s complicated.”

Brienne gaped at him. “Complicated? What I saw out there was a crazy person, Jaime.”

Jaime winced from the cold sting of ice. “She has problems, okay? She’s not... she’s not herself right now.” Jaime looked at her, his eyes almost seeming to beg for mercy. “Brienne, please, I _don’t_ want to talk about it.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I care about you Jaime, and someone has just hurt you. Do you expect me to just to stand idly by if this happens again?” When he made no protest, Brienne continued with a horrified look. “Oh my gods, Jaime... This isn’t the first time she’s hit you, _is it?”_

Jaime sighed from the burden of it all. “Cersei’s upset because she’s already gone through her allowance for the semester. Father won’t wire her any more money, and I can’t give her any because he will start to ask questions. If he finds out that I’ve been helping her, he’s going to pull me out of this school, or possibly both of us."

“What does she spend her money on?” Brienne asked.

Jaime wouldn’t look in her eyes. “Brienne, come on” he complained softly.

 _“_ Jaime _, tell me.”_

“What do you think? What could make the person you have known your whole life start to turn into someone so different, so cruel?” Once he’d saw the gradual look of understanding on her face, Jaime continued to explain in a sad voice. “She’s been in and out of rehab for years now. Father didn’t want her going to school until she'd gotten clean, but my sister doesn’t belong in one of those facilities. It’s not easy to cure an addiction, and I thought that maybe school would be enough to distract her.”

“Is it?”

Jaime offered her a false smile. “Sometimes. But she relapses.”

“This wasn’t a relapse, Jaime.”

“Brienne, please, no more, I don’t like talking about her. I’m sorry she attacked you, and I promise it will never happen again, ok?” He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let her hurt you, I swear.”

She tucked back a lock of his hair with sympathy in her eyes. “I don’t need vows from you,” Brienne said. “I just... I don’t want her to hurt you anymore.”

Jaime tried to wave it off. “Let it go, wench. It’s just the way things are right now.”

Brienne started to grow frustrated. “Jaime, she needs help—”

“She needs _me_.”

Brienne stared at him for a long time, her blue eyes locked firmly onto his green ones. “What about what _you_ need?” Before she could say anything else, Jaime started kissing her on the lips.

“I have everything I need right here.”

 

***

 

Jaime was lying down on the bed, watching Brienne as she pulled her sweater and t-shirt off. She’d thrown one of his t-shirts on instead, leaving her in nothing more than his shirt and her panties. Jaime made space for her in bed before she could settle into her spot, turning over on her side to look at him. The mark of Cersei’s hand print was starting to morph into a purplish shade across his cheek. Every time Brienne looked at it, she couldn’t help feeling the anger and frustration start to rise again.

They kissed sweetly, each needing to drown in the other, trying hard to forget about this horrible day. Brienne wished she could unsee Cersei’s hand hitting Jaime, blocking out the memory of her sharp smack against his cheek. She wanted to forget about her argument with Hyle, forget about the hurt of losing a close friend.But the kisses and the touches on each other’s bodies was no longer enough now. Brienne craved something more. When Jaime’s palm started to feather between her legs, she started to moan in his ear with a self-conscious whisper.

“Jaime," she whispered. "I want you to fuck me.”

Jaime, who was lying top of her while scattering kisses across her breasts, stopped and stared with an unhinged jaw. “What did you say?”

Blushing hard, Brienne said it again with an even smaller voice. “I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

Jaime groaned and dropped his head between her breasts. “ _Wench_ —“

“Please, Jaime.” Brienne pulled him up so his mouth could hover over hers. “I—I need you to fuck me. _Right now.”_

Jaime woefully shook his head. “Brienne, you don’t—you don’t know what you’re really asking for.”

Frowning up at him, Brienne slowly continued in a timid voice. “I know what fucking entails, Jaime”

“It’s not that,” Jaime explained. “It’s just. . .” Brienne sat up in confusion as Jaime sat back on the bed and sighed.

“When we have sex for the first time, I don’t want it to be tainted by something ugly, like what happened in the hallway today.” She shook her head while Jaime continued. “Besides… I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”

Realizing this was starting to become a serious conversation, Jaime rolled off the bed and kneeled in front of her.

Despite the tension between them, Jaime grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Wench, I—I care for you deeply. That’s why... I don’t want to rush what we have right now. I really want us to get to know each other first.” Jaime started to look sheepish. “That’s the reason why I don’t have condoms. If I did, I wouldn’t be saying 'no' to you right now. Brienne, I want to have sex with you; you have no idea how much!” he said,  pushing her hair back while his eyes searched her face. “But I can see this going somewhere special, I really do. That’s why I haven’t talked about having sex with you.”

Hyle was so wrong about Jaime. _He’s never going to hurt me._

Still, there were things she wanted to clear up with Jaime, hoping that he wouldn’t get annoyed by her constant need for assurances. Sensing her insecurity, he caught her pillowy lips between his teeth and bit down on. Immediately, she started to grip down on his shoulders.

“My resolve is in shreds,” he confessed as he slowly removed his lips from hers. “Look at you. How can I resist?”

Brienne scoffed. “Yeah, _right.”_ Jaime kissed her again, but this time, she turned her mouth to fully catch his lips.

“I want us to work," Jaime told her. "I’m in this for the long haul.”

 _'And sure; you’re his girlfriend._ Now. _But ask yourself this: when was the last time Jaime was ever satisfied with anything he had?'_

Remembering Hyle’s harsh words, Brienne looked up at Jaime’s warm smile, searching his face.  Jaime Lannister, the most handsome man on campus, the man who was never seen with the same girl twice, the same man who held her in his arms right now, was telling her he wanted to be in a committed relationship. She felt overwhelmed by this.

“I’m here for as long as you want me,”she told him, pouring out everything that she kept locked away inside her heart.

“That’s a long time wench,” Jaime teased. “Are you sure?”

Brienne rolled her eyes at him with a slight frown. “Well, do you plan on me being menopausal when we have sex for the first time?” she countered, teasing him back.

In spite of the still-tense mood, he burst out laughing. Brienne grinned at him and opened her arms, Jaime falling into them as if he had always belonged there.

***

The next day both of their essays were handed back to them with their final grades. Brienne’s paper had gotten an ‘A’ while Jaime astounded everyone with a ‘B-.' Professor Stark had asked Brienne to stay behind for a quick chat while she asked Jaime to remain outside.

“You must be one hell of a tutor, Brienne,” Professor Stark said when she'd closed the door on Jaime’s snooping face. “Mr. Lannister might just survive this semester.” Brienne’s face started to turn pink.

“He did all the work himself, Professor Stark. He just needed to be nudged now and then.”

“Well, keep nudging. He owes you a lot.” Professor Stark gave Brienne a small smile. “As do I. What are your plans for this summer?”

“My plans?”

“My TA was offered a fellowship in Winterfell, and he’ll be there for two months. I’m teaching a class here this summer, and if you’re interested, I hope you’ll consider being my TA. Of course, the beach is obviously more appealing than a classroom. I’d completely understand if you can’t.”

Brienne was floored. _A TA?_ _For Professor Stark?_

Seeing the look of amazement beam across her face, Professor Stark began to speak with a reassuring tone. “You don’t need to make a decision right away, Brienne. Give it time. But maybe in two weeks, you can tell me for sure what you decided?”

Brienne had to swallow back a mirthful grin. “S-Sure.” Brienne said once she found her voice. Flushing, she added, “Thanks, professor. I’ll definitely think about it.”

Jaime surprised her as soon as she stepped out of the room. Throwing his arms around her, he kissed her soundly on the cheek before moving back far enough to keep an arm around her waist. “Jaime, you’re not going to believe what just happened.” As the two walked down the hallway together, Brienne told him all about Professor Stark’s offer while he squeezed her arm.

“Wench, that’s so fucking cool! Well, personally I think it’s pretty nerdy... but I know _for you_ that it’s really cool. You should take it!”

Brienne’s face started to look glum in forethought. “But... for the entire summer?”

Though they had made it clear last night that they were ready to make a commitment to each other, they hadn’t broached the topic of living in different cities outside of school. Brienne had fostered a hope that her father would allow her to invite Jaime over to Tarth to visit for a few weeks during the summer.

“I think it’s perfect. You can hang around here on campus, and I can be... uh, close by.”

Brienne halted in her tracks. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Jaime sighed with a hangdog look. “I was planning to tell you tonight over dinner. I got an email last Friday.” Jaime put his arms around Brienne’s waist again. “I got that internship, Brienne! The one set for this summer at _Westerosi Geographic!”_

Brienne squawked at him with a blanched face. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, I was hoping to tell you over dinner. We did celebrate a little on Saturday if you remember.” He grinned at her while she started to turn red at the memory.

“Do you know what this means?" he continued excitedly. "We can still see each other, wench! I’ve talked to my father about this already. He’s willing to lend me half the money to rent an apartment. And you can stay in the dorms here or. . .” his voice trailed off suggestively

“Or…?” Brienne said, looking suspicious. Jaime continued with a lusty growl. “Well, you could live with me during the summer. What do you think?”

Brienne remained quiet as Jaime discussed the possibility of a life together over summer vacation. Though she did trust him, Brienne was still reluctant about moving in together. Jaime was playful and tender, but he was also an arrogant, infuriating man. With her, he took special care, coaxing her out of her shell. Since they’d known each other, he had called her ‘ugly’ many times over. He’d also called her a ‘great beast of a woman,’ but his tone with her had never been vicious or cruel. Brienne could always tell he was joking just by the way he looked at her. And now that they were a couple, he seemed to admire and revel in all of the things others had used to cruelly mock her. She no longer doubted that he cared for her, because she knew in her heart that he did. But she still had some trouble accepting it, and at times that old latent fear, the one that taunted her, saying that he would leave her for someone better would tug at the back of her mind.

As he finished his sales pitch about moving in together, they entered his apartment while he dumped his keys on the nearby coffee table. Once he turned to her, he smiled before pulling her into a tight hug. As she'd felt the butterflies drumming in her stomach, she stroked his wide jaw with the bulbs of her fingertips. Sensing her hesitation, Jaime looked at her with a curious smile.

“So I guess you don't want to live with me, huh?” he asked as he led her towards his bed. Brienne gasped softly as he gently dragged most of her clothing off. After he dipped her back to lie down on their bed, he removed his shirt with a playful smile. While maneuvering his hips between her thighs, Brienne squirmed and blushed once she felt his arousal rubbing her through his jeans. Jaime dropped his head on her shoulder with a soft groan.

“It’s not that, Jaime” she whispered, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “I thought you wanted us to take our time. I mean. . .” Brienne blushed a deeper shade of red. Her voice suddenly dropped down to a whisper as if she was sharing a secret. “Jaime, you won’t... we haven’t... I mean...” Jaime chuckled and propped his chin on his fist, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Ok, help me understand this, because just yesterday, you were asking me to fuck you. I know you’re shy Brienne, but what changed between yesterday and today?”

She caressed the purple bruise left by Cersei’s hand while Jaime tried to look away feeling embarrassed. “Jaime, I asked you yesterday because you looked so hurt. I couldn’t. . .” Brienne faltered, “I was so angry at Cersei for hurting you. I just wanted to help you,to...make you feel better.”

Jaime had to smile at her admission. “So…you were offering me only a comfort fuck?

Brienne hid her face in her hands with embarrasment. “I wanted to have sex with you, Jaime. _I still do.”_ Jaime chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully while Brienne continued. “But Jaime, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need... we don’t have to _live_ together. And we don’t have to talk about it just yet. But, I guess…” Brienne paused at the look of his self-conscious smile. “No. I take that back. I don't 'guess'. I _want_ to be yours _._ ”

Jaime looked at her as if trying to figure out the answer to a complicated riddle before kissing her on the shoulder. She let out a gasp as she felt his finger run over her sides before he wrapped an arm around her waist. Brienne clenched her legs tight together; she didn’t want him to know how much she wanted him just then. But then his hand drifted down purposely between her legs.

“Seven hells, wench. You’re soaked,” Jaime said, muttering hoarsely into her ear as he palmed her through her underwear. Sucking in a deep breath, he bit down on her shoulder and started to shiver.

“ _Fuck. Brienne._ ”

She looked at him, while her eyes turned full and beautiful, pupils blown with desire. “Jaime… I understand what you said about wanting to wait. And I don’t know much about relationships, but I do know that not all guys are like you.”

Jaime buried his face deep into her neck as he growled in her ear. “There’s _no men_ like me, wench.”

“So modest,” she joked, trying to ease the tension between them.

Jaime bit down on her earlobe gently. “Brienne, I’m not going anywhere either,” he murmured, removing his hand from her cunt before he held it around her waist. “I know you won’t believe me,  but you’ve already given me so much, and I don’t deserve a single iota of it. I don’t need you to give me anything right now, alright?” He kissed her on the cheek and held her tight while Brienne’s heart started to race. Before her eyes slipped closed, Jaime started to slowly thrust his hips between her legs. Brienne sighed deeply and buried her fingers into his hair.

 _I think I_ _already have..._

_***_

 

For the rest of the month, Brienne couldn’t help but feel immensely satisfied with her life. Under her guidance, Jaime had continued to make significant strides in class. And not just in Professor Stark’s class, but in others as well. The only dark cloud that threatened her happiness was the falling out with Hyle. To her dismay, they hadn’t spoken to each other since their argument at Wolf’s Diner, but she had seen him several times around campus. Although she was still angry at him, she couldn’t help feeling sad at the thought of losing his friendship. Jaime was no fan of Hyle's, but knowing how much their falling out had wounded her, Jaime encouraged her to seek Hyle out and try to make amends. Though she was reluctant at first, Brienne had sent him a short text: “ _Hey, how is everything_?”

To her dismay, Hyle never replied back. All Brienne could do was sigh as she looked sadly at Jaime. “At least I tried, right _?”_

Shockingly, someone who actually turned out to be decent enough, was none other than Cersei Lannister. Brienne always knew they would never be close friends, but she also understood that family was important to Jaime, and couldn't help but appreciate the attempts that Cersei made at being nice to her, even if it was obvious that she was only doing it for her brother’s sake. Jaime had mentioned that he and his sister became close following the death of their mother, but Cersei’s addiction had formed a wedge between the twins, despite Jaime’s loyalty and hiding her relapse from their father.

Jaime had finally managed to talk Brienne into not only going with him to the Iron Throne, but in also wearing a dress. The sales clerk recommended a backless, royal blue dress with an elegant boat neckline and long sleeves. The dress was finely tailored and ended far above her knees, but in her opinion, it was way too expensive only to have it backless. Though she wanted to buy a cheaper dress, Jaime’s ear-to-ear smile had made the nightmare of shopping completely worth it. As for Jaime, he looked sharp in a black suit with a white, button up shirt and a patterned blue tie. His often rugged look made a stunning transformation once he combed his blond hair back and he sported a clean-shaven face.

Together at the Iron Throne, Jaime became the epitome of the perfect gentleman. He always made sure that Brienne's goblet was filled with water and he always held her hand, looking at her as if she were some beautiful creature that accidentally found herself seated next to him. He’d offered her his arm as they walked back towards his car, even opening the door for her with a sarcastic, courtly bow. Brienne put her lips next to his ear and joked that she knew all along that he could behave if he wanted to. Jaime purred into her ear, saying that he fully intended to unleash ‘bad Jaime’ as soon as they got home.

“Bad Jaime wants to come out and play?” Brienne teased, her cheeks turning bright pink with a wicked grin. Jaime nodded his head and smiled at her before giving her a quick kiss before he unlocked the door to his place. “After you, my lady wench.” Brienne played along and took the short hem of her skirt in a mock curtsy. “Why, thank you, good ser.

“ _That_ is the worst curtsy I’ve ever seen, wench!” Jaime exclaimed in feigned disappointment while his eyes twinkled. “But hands down, it's also the sexiest.” Brienne laughed and lingered in the dark entryway before he turned on a light.

“Believe it or not, I’m still hungry,” she complained while brushing past him. “Are there any salt-and-vinegar chips here or—” The heels of her shoes skidded to a halt while Brienne clung to the wall for balance. With doubtful eyes, she took in the scene of his room with a startled gasp.

A trail of winter rose petals were scattered across the floor, leaving a fragrant trail for her towards the bed. As her brain tried to process what was going on, she could hear Jaime moving behind her. She heard a soft sound and soon after, the room was aglow in golden candlelight while Jaime stood by the bed and looked at her.

Brienne swallowed, reaching behind her and flicking off the overhead lights. Jaime continued to stand by the bed, both hands in his pockets while staring at her, looking more gorgeous than ever. All night he’d teased her with smoldering glances and playful winks, but now he was looking at her like a starved man.

“W-What is this Jaime?” Brienne croaked.

“Whatever you want it to be,” Jaime told her. “Tonight is all about you, wench.”

Brienne echoed his promise in disbelief. “All about me?” Just then, Jaime started to crook his finger towards her as she walked closer.

Once Jaime grabbed her hand, he lifted it up to kiss her palm. “Brienne, I know—well, we both want this, right? I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, but if I am, we don’t have to.” he told her gently. “I promise.”

Brienne glanced at the rose petals scattered around them while candle flames flickered softly. “I—I’m scared that we’re not on the same page,” she confessed. "I— _I just._ . .”  Brienne flushed as her voice trailed off.

“Wench, wench.” Jaime shook her gently so she’d look at him. “If you don’t want to, I understand. I don’t want you doing something you’re not comfortable with—” Brienne leaned in as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders before capturing his mouth in a kiss.

Jaime’s body was warm and firm against hers, an anchor made for the storm that was slowly surging inside her. She brushed her lips on his, struggling from the urge to devour him. _Tonight. This is actually happening...tonight!_

Jaime held her by the chin and looked at her with a soft demand. “Brienne, I need the truth. Do you want to have sex with me tonight?”

She looked into his eyes without blinking. “I do, Jaime. I’ve wanted this, _you_ , for so long.”

As soon as she said the words, he moaned as he kissed her. She felt his hands tugging at her hair before they fumbled with the zipper on her dress. Jaime rested his forehead against hers while tugging the dress down, allowing it to fall in a single slide towards her ankles. Pressing her mouth against his, Brienne slowly pulled away before sitting down on the bed.

Her eyes had become bright blue flames as she watched him slowly undress. Marveling at his beautiful, golden skin, Brienne rose to her knees on the bed once he stepped out of his pants and jumped in next to her. With just one move, she was on her back while he lied on top of her. Brienne suddenly grabbed him, using the advantage of her strength to flip Jaime on his back. His grin was pure delight before he arched his neck, giving her a crushing, hard kiss while she spread her legs to straddle him, rubbing the damp cloth of her underwear against the arousal straining against his boxers.

“Fuck, I’ve created a monster,” Jaime sighed between kisses before he grabbed her, flipping her over so she was lying beneath him again.

“I had an outstanding tutor,” she parried back while laughing green eyes meet with her warm blue ones.

She didn’t struggle when he suddenly pinned her hands above her head, kissing the soft flesh of her inner arms, muttering that she’d forgotten to shave there. Brienne reddened before she lightly punched him in the arm and giggled nervously.

Jaime had not only taught her about desire, but he’d also helped her see her unconventional beauty. Every kiss was followed by a soft whisper or a teasing rebuke; laughter had always been part of their foreplay and Jaime was intent on doubling down his efforts to make her laugh. For that, Brienne was grateful.

Any lingering doubts she had, started to vanish as his lips claimed one nipple—and then the other—before his tongue trailed down her chest. He told her to watch him as he moved lower. She did as she was told, following him as he started to nuzzle her panties. Before she could say a word, he tugged them down with his teeth and shoved his head between her legs. _Oh! Gods.._.

Brienne lovingly stroked his hair while he fucked her with his tongue. Firm, smooth strokes delved deep inside of her before she squeezed his head between her thighs and told him she wanted him inside her.

He raised his head, lips and chin gleaming, while kissing her leg before going to her thigh. By the time his lips fell on her navel, she was mad with lust and tucked her hands beneath his armpits to pull him up.

“Jaime, please,” Brienne whimpered while growing desperate. Jaime chuckled as he looked down at her with a smug look.

“I’m so fucking right for calling you ‘wench,’” he teased, while she covered her face with her hands. Holding back a grin, Jaime kissed her on the lips, and mumbled a single word into her mouth.

“Drawer.”

Brienne turned around while Jaime continued to kiss and suckle at her neck. Inside the nightstand table, she’d found a strip of condoms and yanked them all out. Ripping off a square packet, Jaime tore it open while Brienne watched him roll it on before returning to her.

With one hand guiding her back down on the bed and the other one gripping his cock, Jaime had nudged closer, carefully parting her legs apart with his own. He suddenly stopped to look at her with a tender smile, almost doubting that she was really there.

“Brienne, I want you to know something,” he said as he gently nudged at her opening.

“What?” she whimpered, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of him entering her for the first time.

 _“I love you,”_ he said as he pushed inside of her a little bit more, sweating from the effort. Brienne’s eyes bolted open, not knowing if she could trust her own ears.

“I love you Brienne,” he repeated once he read the question in her eyes. He watched her mouth fall open once his cock slowly made its way deeper into her.

“I love you too, Jaime,” Brienne gasped. A part of her still refused to believe that this was actually happening. “I love you so much.”   

Jaime never took his eyes off her as he made his first thrust inside of her, mindful of not hurting her. Brienne kept her eyes closed, fighting back the overwhelming feeling of this strange fullness, but at the same time, still wanting him to go deeper. She slipped her arms around his neck when Jaime took a deep breath and pushed all the way inside her.

_Oh. Fuck._

_“Jaime!”_

He also grunted,almost as if in pain “ _Fuck,_ _Brienne.”_ His head fell on her chest in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d be so damn tight.”

Brienne started to panic. “I'm sorry. . .”

Jaime suddenly looked at her with a flushed grin. _“Nonono._ It’s good; I swear.” Jaime started to pant while Brienne fought off a sharp wince. “I'm sorry it hurts right now. It’ll get better, I promise.” He kissed her hard with a clumsy mouth. “Ready?”

Brienne nodded while Jaime slowly drew back and pushed again. Her eyes widened with a gasp, _“Gods.”_

Jaime shook his head with a tight smirk of pleasure. _“_ It’s _Jaime,_ sweetling. _My name is Jaime_.”

Gradually he sped up his thrusts, and the feeling of fullness had started to abate within her. With a hand on her hip, Jaime told her how to thrust back before groaning her name, telling her how good she felt or how close she was to killing him.

"Are you close?” He asked breathlessly, fucking her at a quick pace while she planted her feet on the mattress and fucked him back.

“Close?” She felt her body tense up. Jaime stared at her while he reached down and sought out her clit. Brienne squeezed her eyes shut while she sunk her nails deep into his back. “Oh gods,” she cried out, thrusting back at him violently. _“What are you doing?”_

“Something that's definitely not stupid,” he hissed, his hips adopting a rough pace while he stroked her with his hand. Brienne back lifted off the mattress while she shrieked, bucking her hips with a wild orgasm as he thrust into her a few more times. Jaime growled as he came, falling on top of her as she closed her eyes.

When she’d opened them again, the candles had burned out, and the bedside lamp was on.

Jaime was not in bed with her. Concerned, she sat up. The bedroom door opened and she quickly covered herself with a bed sheet.

“Hey! You’re awake.” Jaime smiled at her as he wandered back in completely naked. “Go back to sleep, wench; it’s two in the morning.” He moved the blankets aside while Brienne made room for him on his bed before he covered them with a blanket.

“I’ve been asleep for two hours?”

Jaime offered her a smug grin and kissed her on the forehead. “Well, we engaged in some extensive ‘tutoring,’ wench.” Brienne blushed and managed a small smile.

“I guess we did.” Draping an arm around her, Jaime tugged her close. “Are you alright?”

Brienne blushed into his chest. “Sore,” she admitted, “but I’ll survive.”

“Of course you will.” He sighed, kissing her on the shoulder. “I expect we’ll have more nights like this. Days too.”

She chuckled and cuddled tight against him while Jaime laughed with a warm smile.

“Gods, Tarthy, you’re too good for me, do you know that?”

Brienne furrowed her brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”’

Jaime made a faint gesture with his hand over the tangled bed sheets. “I wasn’t expecting this.” She was astonished by the awe in his voice, offering him a quizzical look.  Jaime blushed before he explained further.

“This. _Tonight._ I had no idea that you’d be so… giving.”

Brienne wrinkled her nose at him in amusement. “With my virginity, you mean?”

“With all of you.” He said, holding her hand on top of his chest. “You give and never expect anything back." He looked at her, his emerald eyes bright. "Don’t. . .” Jaime sighed with a reluctant frown, “don’t do that with everyone, alright? No one in the world deserves _all_ of you.”

She glared at him with a crooked smile. “I’d like _you_ to have all of me,” she whispered.

Jaime shook his head with a wilted smile. “I’m not worth it, Brienne.”

Brienne snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, gently caressing his cheek. "You're worth everything, Jaime.”

After a moment of silence, she kissed his hand with a playful smile. “Well.. If you think you don’t deserve all of me, would you accept a piece of me?”

“A piece of you?” Jaime had sounded intrigued.

“A piece of me. Or pieces... if you’d like.”

“Pieces of you?” Jaime mused with an impish grin, while Brienne’s smile bloomed in a silly laugh. 

"Yes _._ The choice will be yours, _my lord_.”

Jaime arched a brow with intrigue. “Really, my lady? _Hmm..”_

Brienne started to laugh as soon as he cupped her breast. “What about this?”

She tried hard to conceal her smile under the bed sheets. “It’s quite meager, no?” Brienne’s reply shivered into a moan once he started to play with her nipple. “I believe it'll be better appreciated once taken with its pair.”

Jaime snapped back the bed sheet and looked at her straight in the eye. “You’re quite right,” he said before kissing her, “I guess I’ll have to take both then.” Just as he dipped his head in for another kiss, Brienne turned her head to him. She had something she needed to say.

“Jaime, what you said earlier…” Brienne flustered as she started to fidget with the blankets. “It’s ok if you didn’t— _uh_ . Well. What I mean is, I know people sometimes say... _certain things_ when they have sex. I don’t want you to feel like you need to…” Brienne's speech started to trail off with a rosy blush filling her cheeks.

Jaime’s eyes had narrowed on hers before they grew dark in a mirthless reply. “I didn’t say ‘I love you” just because I was inside you.” She dropped her head in shame as Jaime persisted, taking hold of her chin so she’d be forced to look at him square in the eye. “I told you that I love you because it’s true.  _I’m in love with you, Brienne.”_

Suddenly breathless, Brienne clenched her jaw and swallowed hard as she fought back the tears. _“I love you too, Jaime.”_

Jaime started to grin while he stroked her cheek with tender fingers. Starting to feel hopeful, his eyes grew soft again before they returned to a beautiful shade of green. “Brienne, I never thought that one day I'd be lucky to have a single piece of you.” His smile became infectious once he pecked her on the lips. “I promise to do everything I can to be worthy of at least your little toe.”

Brienne laughed in spite of the threat of tears welling in her eyes. Never did she think that she’d one day feel this happy or know love like this. With a coy little grin, she tugged his hand away from her jaw and guided it down to settle it between her legs.

 _"_ Maybe. Or maybe you can be worthy of more than just my little toe.”

 

***

 

_The present day_ :

 

She sat on the couch of her apartment and stared at the phone resting on her coffee table.

Twice she’d dialed that number, and twice she’d hung up before it started to ring. _Fuck it._ If she was going to do this, she needed to stop being a coward and just do it already. As she fumbled with her phone again, a soft warning invaded her thoughts. 

_If you do this, there’s no going back..._

Brienne sighed, shuddering with nerves. Jaime Lannister had left her his number on the "Missed Connections" board inside Visenya's Hill train station. Once, the very thought of him had her feeling giddy, with butterflies in her stomach, and her head spinning with love.

Now, the thought of him made her sick.

Grabbing the phone off the coffee table, Brienne took a deep breath and redialed the number without thinking. With trembling hands, she brought the phone up to her ear while she fought off her urge to hang up again. The phone ringed three times before she heard it; Jaime’s voice. Brienne started to sweat, until she realized that it was only his voicemail.

 _Shit._ Without speaking a single word, she panicked and hung up. _You fucking coward..._

Wracked by fear, she redialed his number with a soft string of insults muttered under her breath. Once again, Jaime’s voicemail started to play in her ear. As she tucked her phone between her neck and shoulder, she’d listened to his voice and thought back to those days when they had been young and stupid together. _Stupid and in love..._ Just as his voicemail greeting came to an end, she sat up straight on her couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

_Damn it. She needed to do this._

With a deep breath, she started to speak.

“Um, J-Jaime? Hello, it’s . . . it’s Brienne. _Tarth._ Uh, Brienne Tarth.” Brienne closed her eyes and cringed with self-loathing. _Fuck,_ she thought, _I sound like an idiot._ Unfortunately, she’d felt her idiocy start to speed up with the blurring momentum of an oncoming trainwreck. “N-now that the matter of my name has finally been cleared up,” Brienne rolled her eyes, “I was wondering if you’d like for us to meet? Um, I live in the city now, so if you’re ever here. . . maybe... you’d like to have a piece of me?”

As soon as she had said the words, her mouth fell open with a silent scream. _Oh, gods!_

A long, lingering silence hung over the span of the voicemail while Brienne continued to balk at herself in humiliation. _Stupid stupid, stupid!_  Clearing her throat, she tried to speak again. “Anyway, one of my students said you left me a message on the "Missed Connections" wall. So...I mean, you know... if you want coffee, or... _something,”_ Brienne closed her eyes with a deep shrug, “My number is—” the rest was only a string of numbers that rushed out her in a sharp exhale. With little ceremony, she choked out a squeaky ‘bye’ before she’d finally hung up.

Fuck, never in a million years did Brienne expect him to call her back, not after the way things had ended between them. But not even a half-hour later her phone rand and it was his voice. _Oh, gods… that voice._ That old, familiar voice filled her ear once more, and before she could even attempt to play it cool, they were already making plans to meet. With a soft ‘click’ from his end of the line, she stared at the dead phone with a shocked look on her face. Feeling numb, Brienne dropped the phone back on the table and sat in her living room for a moment while she replayed their conversation.

With slow, reluctant movements, she wandered in her apartment still caught up in a daze before locking herself in the bathroom. Feeling as though she suddenly couldn’t breathe, Brienne gasped for air while her heart pounded and her chest ached. Without thinking, she huddled herself into the empty bathtub before sliding against the tiled wall. Once everything sunk in, Brienne let out a thin gasp before the tears came, and once she started, she just couldn't stop. She cried loudly, her hands covering her face, the pain feeling as fresh and raw as it had fifteen years ago.

It still hurt, even after all these years. _Why does it have to hurt so damn much?_

When Jaime first told her that he loved her, it was the first time they’d had sex and Brienne had never expected it; she should have known better. From the moment he first uttered those words, she realized that Jaime had the power to yank out the rug from under her without even trying. It was a lesson she’d carried with her over the years. She knew that probably he had lied to other women before her, but the thought offered little comfort, doing nothing to mitigate the pain.

Jaime Lannister had fooled her once. And Brienne was many things, but she had long ago made a silent promise to herself.

She would never let anyone fool her like that again.

 

***

 

A week later, she walked inside Wolf’s Diner with the old, familiar ring of a bell. Ducking into a washroom near the front door, Brienne went inside to fix her hair. She hadn’t been there in ages. Because of all the memories she had with Jaime and for all of the times they spent here together... it was still too painful.

Brienne could never forget how one day, Jaime had just disappeared on her. It had been the summer she was hired on as a teacher’s assistant for Professor Stark. Like a fool, she’d made plans with him to meet up at Highgarden every weekend; it was where he needed to stay for his internship at _Westerosi Geographic,_ but it was only an hour and a half ride by train. Every weekend she’d visit and stay in Jaime’s apartment while they played house, but mostly they’d end up playing with each other.

“Do you want a piece of me?” she’d ask him, standing at the doorway of his bedroom, wearing nothing more than one of his favorite t-shirts and a coy, innocent grin. Jaime would always jump out of bed to chase after her, while Brienne squealed with laughter. He’d snag her up in his arms before kissing her on the mouth with a smile, answering in bated breath:

“I want _all_ of your pieces, _you_   _naughty_   _little wench.”_   

Brienne had put her arms around his neck and kissed him, over and over again. Like they had all the time in the world.

***

Now, fifteen years later, Brienne was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror at Wolf’s Diner with a despondent look on her face, squeezing her eyes shut.

_Remembering._

Gods, the joy she’d felt whenever she’d pack her father’s faded military duffel bag to go visit Jaime. How they loved each other back then. She had been so happy, so convinced that yes, she did deserve to have this.

But then one day, Jaime didn’t arrive to meet her at the train station. When she had taken a cab to go to his place, he hadn't been there. Panicked, she tried calling him on his cell, but all she got was a disconnection alert. Stranger still, when she finally got hold of the photography department at _Westerosi Geographic,_ the person on the other end of the line told her that no one had ever heard of him working there. They knew of the _Lannister_ name, of course , everyone in Westeros did. But as an intern?

“Jaime Lannister? Nope. Sorry, doesn't work here. Goodbye.” _Click._

Throwing a hard look at the mirror, Brienne glanced at her reflection once more before she’d finally turned around and stepped outside.

She’d quickly spotted Jaime sitting in a vinyl booth at the corner of the diner with a phone stuck to his ear —of course, he had to sit in  _their_ booth. Brienne felt her hands shaking as she approached him, and in an instant, he looked up at her; their eyes locked, making her feel like everything was spinning around her way too fast.

She stood frozen to the spot, while Jaime gawked at her, suddenly incapable of an excuse as he fumbled to end his call.

Brienne was stunned by the weather beaten, world-weary look that'd hung on him. His eyes were bloodshot with dark shadows that highlighted the creases surrounding his eyes. His blond hair was still thick, but it was longer now, hanging just a little past his ears. From a slight distance away she could detect a few silver strands of hair, with even a few patches that outlined his jaw.

 _Fuck._ she thought to herself, H _e’s still beautiful._

“Gods, you’re really here,” he said, tucking his phone away before he scrambled to his feet with a confused look on his face. “Brienne. Wench.” Without a moment to respond, he wrapped her up in a tight, almost _crushing_ bearhug. She closed her eyes while the sharp sting of heartbreak coiled up on her face. _He still smells the same..._

It was only the grace of her willpower that kept her knees from buckling while she gently pushed him away.

“Come on, sit down,” Jaime said, somehow reluctant to let her go. Brienne had set her tote aside, nervously fidgeting with the handles before she sat down to face him. She felt her heart race as her fingers started to grow numb. The damn power of Jaime's smile; it always did that to her.

“Wench. It’s been _fifteen_ years,” Jaime drawled with a tense forehead and lopsided smile. “Blue is still a good color on you.” Brienne threw a nervous glance down at her turquoise blouse before feigning indifference with a polite smile.

“Uh.. thanks.”

“You look well,” Jaime said with a tight voice. “Still the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, and the tallest wench I’ll ever know.”

Brienne shifted her weight in the booth with a weary sigh. “I don’t know if calling me ‘wench’ is still appropriate, Jaime,” she said firmly. “Given our history and everything that’s happened.”

The smile fell from Jaime’s eyes from the moment she gave him her rebuke. Desperate for a second chance he plastered a shit-eating grin on his face with a forced laugh.

“Oh, I don’t know, “ he said with an impulsive wink. “Even when you’re old and gray, you’ll always be a wench to me.”

Brienne could feel her heart start to tug in her chest. “Maybe we should hold off on the pet names, ok?” Even when Jaime tried to hold back on his sudden wince, his patented _Lannister Charm_ preserved his dignity again.  

“Fine,” Jaime said with a sharp inhale. Glancing around the diner that was steeped in warm nostalgia, Jaime rolled his fingers against the table with an aggressive sound. Soon, he dropped his head with a nervous chuckle and ran clumsy fingers into his hair. “ _Fuck,_ Brienne... You have no idea how..." Jaime winced, "...happy you’re making me right now. Just having you sit here means…” His words had started to sound forced. “I’ve missed you.”

Her face had started to turn red. “Missed me?” she echoed with a tight jaw and a cold look. When Jaime nodded, Brienne took a deep breath and planted both elbows on the table while she dropped her head and leaned forward.

“Look, why don't we just quit fucking around? You're actually going to sit here, look at me in the face, and say that you missed me, like nothing happened?  _You’re_ the one who left, Jaime! Or don't you _remember_ that?”

 A thunderbolt of rage flashed across Jaime's eyes. “Brienne… _what the fuck are you talking about?”_

Irritated by his false, innocent demeanor, she leaned back into the booth with a disgusted look on her face.

“Gods, I don’t believe this,” Brienne muttered. “You’re _seriously_ going to play the victim and act as if nothing happened.”

Outraged, Jaime’s face suddenly twisted up with hurt before he slammed a fist against the table, rattling the porcelain coffee cup in front of him, startling her.

“Ok, let's stop this right now Brienne. What the fuck do you mean, because as far as I remember, _you're_ the one who took off!"

Her hands started to tremble, and she could hear her heart slam in her ears while her eyes grew round in disbelief. Struggling to remain calm, Brienne reached for the paper napkin lying next to her and started to shred it up into thin little strips. Feeling Jaime’s eyes bore into her downcast face, her thoughts threatened to boil over in anger. Not wanting to make a scene, she dropped the shredded napkin onto the table with disgust and whispered at him with spite.

“Fuck you, Jaime. Just… _Fuck. You!”_ With blue eyes brimming with tears, Brienne grabbed her purse and started to get up. “I can’t believe you’re just sitting there, looking at me like you didn’t destroy my life!” She had to leave before the warbling in her voice gave way to a pitiful sob.

Just as she was making her way to slide out of their booth, Jaime grabbed her by the wrist with a crazed look in his eyes.

“ _Brienne!_ I don’t know what the seven fucking hells is going on here but I swear _I didn’t leave you!”_ She threw him a jaded look, as he fumed and nearly stuttered to continue.

“Cersei gave you my message... and then you just... fucking left me Brienne! Without a godsdamn word!Never saying anything if you were OK, or where you were going. How could you do that? How could you just walk away from me?" She could see the veins in his temple start to throb in tandem with his anger. "If anyone should be fucking angry here Brienne, don’t you think that someone should be _me?”_ Jaime seethed with a cutting glare.

Furious with his choice to play the wronged victim, Brienne’s eyes flashed wide in outrage.

“You never left me a message, Jaime! I left _you_ a message with your sister _._ And I know you got it because Cersei told me what you said to her. Thank you for that by the way, for making me feel like I was nothing!”

Jaime’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blinking at her in a look of shock, his face screwed up with plum-red confusion as he struggled to understand what she meant.

“What _message_ Brienne?”

Brienne was tempted to insult him, to scream at him, to make him feel the same gut-wrenching pain she had felt for _years_. But Jaime’s face told her something was wrong, and she began to panic, trying to understand his confusion. Part of her wanted to believe he was lying, that he was just putting on a show; but the other part...the one that had been dormant inside her for years, remembered who Jaime was, how he had loved her, how sweetly he kissed her forehead after they had been together for the first time, how much he had wanted her in his life. 

As he blinked at her, trying to make sense of her words,  Brienne’s anger quickly gave way beneath an overwhelming avalanche of realization, the horrible truth beginning to dawn on her.   

_Oh, gods._

_Oh fuck!  
_

_He doesn’t know..._

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne learn some harsh truths about what and who drew them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, new chapter up. This was a challenge, because there were a lot of things to be revealed and explained here.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Brienne’s face started to pale with Jaime’s sudden revelation. She gaped at him with wounded eyes and what seemed to Jaime, a soft sigh of defeat.

Closing her eyes as she adjusted the tote over her shoulder, Brienne managed to mumble weakly “I’m s-sorry, Jaime. _I have to go.”_

Jaime stared at Brienne, while his bafflement threatened to give way to anger. “What do you mean _you have to go_? What in seven hells is going on Brienne? We’ve only spoken for a few minutes, now you’re just going to run out on me? _No!”_ Jaime banged his fist against the table again, causing Brienne to flinch in the booth. “There’s too much shit _we need_ to say… and frankly, there’s a lot of shit that I’m struggling to deal with right now.”

His voice halted once he noticed that the dull roar of voices in the diner had started to grow quiet. Rubbing a shameful hand across his mouth, he lowered his voice with a seething tone. “You just told me that you gave Cersei a message. Just so we’re clear? _I never got that message_. All I want is for us to talk about…”

“I know, Jaime; I know _we need_ to talk. There’s so much that… _I thought,”_ Brienne floundered as she ran trembling fingers through her hair. “Damn it!” As she felt the eyes of patrons falling on them both, her voice lowered to a sharp whisper.

“Jaime, I need to know that you’re telling me the truth about Cersei. Because if she didn’t give you my message…” Her voice started to crack, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Jaime in the eye.

“Brienne, the only thing Cersei told me moments before I got on that plane to Skagos, was that she would tell you where I was going.” Jaime's stern look started to dwindle as if he were reliving the memory again. “Then, when you didn’t call me there, I contacted Cersei and she told me you’d taken off and no one knew where you went.”

He looked at Brienne, his eyes wild. “I went _insane_ , Brienne. I couldn't understand why you’d leave like that, I…”

She shot up a hand in disbelief. “Wait a minute. You went to _Skagos?”_

Jaime’s brows quirked up in amazement as he nodded with a tight smirk. “Yeah. My first assignment as an intern. They wanted me to assist coverage on the refugee crisis there, and they were running short-staffed on photographers. It was all last minute and I called to tell you, but your phone was off; I couldn’t even leave a message. That’s why I went to my sister, so she could tell you. I had to hop on a last- minute flight, and Skagos is a dead-zone for cell phones. That’s probably why you got a disconnected message when you tried to call me”

Brienne slowly shook her head while Jaime explained everything; doubtful blue eyes began to soften before they welled up with painful tears. “My phone had been giving me problems all week,” she explained. “I had to run out and buy a new one, because I couldn’t get any incoming messages or calls. After…everything... I changed my number.”

She sighed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut.  “I can’t believe this. I can’t _fucking_ believe this...”

Desperate for answers, Jaime reached for her hand across the table. He felt so relieved when he noticed that she didn’t snatch her hand away this time. “Brienne, I _really_ think you should stay. There’s so much we need to discuss...”

Her face coiled up with a teary frown and spoke with a tight voice. “I know, Jaime. Believe me, _I know we do_ , but I can’t now. I just…” She unexpectedly squeezed his hand, and Jaime felt a sudden bolt of happiness coursing through him.

 _“When?_ When can we talk?” He was practically begging her by the look in his eyes. “Tell me _when_ and I’ll be there.”

Brushing a lock of hair from her face, Brienne said thoughtfully, “It can’t be tomorrow, or the next day. I have…prior commitments.” She was quiet for a moment, and finally said in a low voice. “Maybe this weekend?”

Jaime took out his phone and spoke in a curt voice. “Give me your number.”

Brienne glared at him with suspicion. _“Why?”_

“Because I’m not going to fucking _lose you again_ , and I have no guarantees that you’ll even call me back.” Jaime shot her a cool glare with a sarcastic edge in his reply. “I’m assuming you won’t give me a fake number, right?”

She was visibly reluctant, but she rapidly dictated her number to him, while grabbing her tote and standing up. Jaime looked at her as she was turning to walk away.

 _“This weekend_ , Brienne, or I will not stop calling you.” His stern voice faltered with a shuddery inhale. “We’re talking; one way or the other. No excuses.”

Jaime’s heart felt tight in his chest. _How did we end up like this?_

She nodded slowly. “This weekend, Jaime. _I promise.”_

With eyes still locked onto hers, he reached for Brienne's hand again, not wanting her to leave. He was terrified, feeling that if he let her walk away, she would vanish from his life again. Filled with an ache of regret, Jaime rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand before he lifted it to his face and pressed his lips to the soft skin there. Sinking his whole heart into his kiss, he closed his eyes just as he heard her soft gasp and he could only hope she felt the same way that he did; an unwillingness to forget, the inability to let go even after everything they'd been through.

Swallowing hard, Brienne slowly pulled her hand away. “I’ll see you, Jaime.”

Slowly, Jaime opened his eyes, and saw in her face a tenderness he had thought forever lost to him.

“You can count on that… _wench.”_

 ***

 

 The lights in the bar were dim, but Tyrion Lannister didn't need them to feel the total heartbreak in Jaime's voice.

“I saw her today.”

Intrigued, Tyrion shifted on the stool while angling his head closer to his older brother. Struggling to hold his tongue and not answer back with a sarcastic comment, he waited for Jaime to continue. After a long moment of silence, Tyrion became impatient.

“You saw _who_ today?” When Jaime didn’t answer, slowly turning his glass in circles, playing with the ice cubes, Tyrion continued joyfully.

“Oh, wait. Let me guess. You finally got laid after months of celibacy, and as a result, you’ve fallen hopelessly in love?” Tyrion shook his head, smiling. “Jaime, how many times do I have to say this? You don’t have to marry every girl you fuck, you really don’t” Tyrion's smile turned wicked. “If that were the case, I would have no less than fifty ex-wives by now.”

Disgusted by the memories of his many and often sordid dalliances with women, Jaime raised his hand, followed by a wince of self-loathing.

“Would you stop, _please?”_ Jaime sighed before he took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. “It's Brienne, alright? _I saw Brienne.”_

Tyrion’s mouth fell open in shock. “Fuck the Seven! You saw _Brienne_? _Where?”_

Jaime kept his eyes locked on his drink with a half shrug and a baffled shake of the head.

“Remember that note I left on the “Missed Connections” wall almost a year ago? Well, a student of hers saw it… and she called me.”

Tyrion’s stunned expression wilted in disbelief. “Well, fuck me. I never thought that shit worked for _anybody_. That’s one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?” Jaime slowly nodded his head in agreement.

Feeling the effects of the hard liquor he was swallowing down like water, Tyrion propped his head up with his hand and gave his brother an inquisitive look.

“Soooo, your _wench_ is a teacher now?”

Jaime stared at the glass in front of him with a blank expression on his face. “I guess. We didn’t…we didn’t really talk much.”

Tyrion leered at him with a licentious brow. “Why? Too busy fucking?”

Jaime’s eyes threw pointed daggers at him. Backpedaling, Tyrion continued after a moment of thinking.

“Ok, help me understand this: You have this woman in front of you-- _the love of your life_ -your words, not mine. The one who ran out on you more than _ten years ago_... and you didn't bother to ask _what she was doing_? Did you even ask why she left in the first place?”

Jaime sighed in frustration as he dragged both hands through his hair. “She said she had to go, ok? I didn’t want to pressure her, Tyrion. She said she would call so we could meet again. Besides, she was so fucking angry at me…”

Tyrion’s face screwed up tight in confusion. “She was angry at _you_? What in Seven Hells entitles _her_ to be angry? She fucking left _you,_ Jaime!”

Jaime set the glass down on the counter with a haunted look on his face, before he answered with a soft voice.

“That’s the thing, Tyrion. She accused _me_ of leaving _her_.” Incapable of looking at his brother, Jaime's eyes shifted across the bar counter with a despondent shrug. “She told me that she left a message for me with Cersei, and apparently, she never told Brienne I went to Skagos on an assignment.”

Tyrion’s face started to darken with a cold voice. “Why am I not surprised that every single shitty thing in our lives always comes back to Cersei?”

 Jaime glanced at his brother over his hunched shoulders. “Do you really think Cersei deliberately lied to us? Do you think that she…?”

Tyrion wouldn't let his brother finish.

“Oh, _fuck_! Really? Stop right there, because I swear... even though I can't throw a punch at your pretty little face I can still manage to break one of your ribs.” Tyrion’s face was growing red in outrage. “Do you honestly doubt it? _Come on_ , Jaime! Of course she lied to you! _Fuck_ , she was lying to everyone! Did you really think you were the only exception to the rule?”

Jaime felt himself drowning in shame, not even able to look at Tyrion in the eye. “I just thought…I thought she was at least honest with _me_. Despite everything, it seemed that she was making a real effort with Brienne. As odd as it sounds, she was actually friendly to her…”

“And why do you think she did it? Hmm?” Jaime started to hear the sting of acid in his brother's voice. “You pitiful fool! She did that to trick you both into believing anything she’d say, _especially you.”_ Tyrion shook his head with a bitter laugh. “Cersei ruined everything, Jaime. Everything she's ever touched, she’s poisoned. The truth is, she couldn’t _stand_ to see you happy and in love while she was strung out and miserable. Our sister saw her chance to separate you from Brienne, and she took it.”

Jaime turned his head from his little brother, not willing for him to see the flash of tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He was so confused and heartbroken; he didn't want to believe that his sister had deliberately hurt him, but at the same he understood how capable of that she truly was. It destroyed him to know how willing his twin was to inflict pain onto anyone who got in her way. Her ruthlessness had included Brienne, ripping her from his life so that Cersei would have no competition for his affection.

“Fuck, Tyrion... _What do I do?_ Fifteen years! How do the fuck do I get fifteen years back? She stole a lifetime from me, from Brienne! I can’t… “Jaime trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

With a growing concern for his brother, Tyrion spoke in a gentle tone.

“Look Jaime, the first thing you need to do is find out how Brienne feels and what message she tried to give Cersei. _You have_ to clear up everything with her before you ask her how she feels about you.” Tyrion stared at Jaime cautiously. “Are you still in love with her?”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed while they bored into Tyrion.

“You’re fucking kidding, right _?”_ Jaime crooked a sad smile at his brother. “I never _stopped_ loving her Tyrion, you know that. It’s not like I didn’t _try_ to forget about her. There were other women, but you know how…”

Tyrion nodded thoughtfully, and Jaime figured he was probably thinking of Tysha. Jaime cringed, not wanting to remember the countless one-night stands he subjected himself to in a pathetic attempt to maybe one day, finally exorcise Brienne from his heart.

He tried… but he never could.

“Well, then…” Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime could see Tyrion raise his glass at Jaime with a mock toast and a jaded smirk. “Here's to our sweet sister Cersei, and the miles of hell she’s so lovingly paved before us.” Tyrion clinked his glass against his brother’s before he knocked his drink back and spoke with the sting of alcohol burning his voice.

“My dear brother, I think you know very well what you need to do. “

 

***

Jaime wanted to pick up the phone and call her.

Sick and tired of feeling anxious, he stared at his dark phone screen with a sick look on his face. Debating whether to burn off some of this restlessness by going on a run, his phone unexpectedly lit up and started to ring. As soon as her name flashed across the screen, his heart slammed hard in his chest.

“Brienne,” Jaime’s voice purred into the receiver, trying to give some sort of normalcy to his tone “I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”

“J-Jaime?” Brienne’s voice almost sounded like it was distant and breathless. “Uh, yeah… hi. _It’s me._ Brienne…uh..Tarth.”

Despite their heated standoff in the diner, Jaime couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Whatever might have happened between them, Brienne was _still_ the awkward, shy girl he’d met in college. “Yeah, I _know_ Brienne,” he answered with a wry grin, “I’d recognize your voice anywhere… _Tarthy.”_

He heard her pull in a sharp intake of breath before laughing softly in the background. “‘ _Tarthy_.’ Gods, I’d forgotten all about that.”

“Did you also forget we’d be seeing each other this weekend?”

Brienne paused with an awkward grumble in her voice. “ _No, Jaime._ I didn’t forget. It’s just…” she sighed heavily into the phone. “This isn't easy.”

Jaime gripped the phone tighter to his ear, wanting so much to have her voice as close to him as possible. “I know, Brienne. _Believe me,_ this isn’t easy for me either. For years, I thought you’d left me without an explanation. But now…” Jaime shrugged into his phone. “I don’t know what to think anymore. All I _do_ know is…”

 _I love you_. He wanted so badly to say that to her.

But he didn’t. “I want to see you, explain everything, a-and I want to know what happened. What Cersei did…” Jaime still couldn’t bring himself to believe what his sister had done. “Brienne, _I’m so sorry._ I just want…”

She interjected once she could hear his voice shaking. “Jaime, _don’t,”_ she pleaded gently. “I don’t want to do this over the phone. There’s too much to explain, too many things to…” Drawing back a shaky breath, she exhaled sharply into the phone. He remained quiet, fearful of missing her words while feeling his throat begin to tighten.

“Brienne…?”

She finally spoke again “That’s actually why I’m calling. Can you come over for dinner tomorrow night? M-my place?”

Jaime could almost _feel_ her trepidation over the phone. He was thrilled by the thought of finally seeing her again. But he was also scared shitless, terrified that she--unlike him--had managed to let go of the past and move on with her life.

 _What if she’s married?_ Jaime tried hard to remember, but he couldn't recall seeing a ring on her finger.

The very thought that she could be in with love another man flooded his heart with dread.

“I’ll be there.” His free hand fumbled for a pen off his desk. “Where do you live?”

While she was giving him her address, Jaime couldn’t help but fear that he was only setting himself up for a new bout of pain. There was no guarantee that Brienne still had feelings for him, and even if she wasn’t married or had someone in her life, why would she want him back in hers after everything that happened between them?

As the conversation drew to a close, he asked if she was a teacher now. Brienne answered that yes, she was a professor of Literature at King’s Landing University, had been for the last eight years. She also told him that Catelyn Stark had recommended her for the job, and Jaime couldn’t help but grimace at the name, remembering how many grueling hours of studying he had submitted himself to just to pass her course. But much as he had wanted to, he couldn’t hate the old hag.

Thanks to her, Brienne had come into his life.

As they said their goodbyes, Jaime had decided that if he was only going to get his heart ripped out again, then he was going to savor this last chance of drowning in her astonishing eyes one last time.

 

***

 

Jaime started to curse under his breath, palms sweating as he knocked on her door.

As he stood there in the hallway of Brienne’s apartment, he fumbled with the bottle of Arbor Red in his hands. He remembered that she had never really liked the taste of alcohol, but he figured that it was a fair gift since he knew that he would be the one doing most of the drinking tonight.

Jaime could hear a faint shuffling as she approached the door, and a minute later Brienne stood there, greeting him barefoot in a blue sleeveless dress.

 _Fuck,_ he thought ruefully to himself, _she knows I love her in blue_. As weary eyes gorged on her smile, he started to admonish himself for thinking that she’d wear blue _only_ for him.

 _Don’t be so stupid, Lannister_. _She’s not doing it for you, get over yourself_...

“Jaime, hi.” Brienne’s eyes sparkled like moonbeams dancing on water, seemingly happy to see him. As he returned her greeting with a soft ‘hello’ Jaime couldn't help but think he saw an undercurrent of fear lurking in her eyes. “Come in.” Brienne stepped aside as Jaime entered.

“Oh. You didn’t have to bring anything…” Her voice lingered while he handed her the bottle with a bashful smile.

“You didn’t say, but I thought it would be rude if I didn't. I figure we’ll both be needing it tonight,” he said with a nervous grin. His mind was screaming bloody murder, but Jaime had mastered the art of putting up a good front, convincing others he was fine while all he wanted to do was blather and bluster.

He supposed it was one of those traits that both he and Cersei had in common.

“Please, sit down.” Brienne pointed to an ivory colored couch in the corner of the living room after she’d ushered him inside.  She made a faint gesture to the bottle in her hand. “Do you want me to open it?”

“I can open it if you want.” Jaime winced at the over-eager tone in his offer.

“Uh, _no_. That’s ok, I can manage. I’ll be right back,” she said, offering him a nervous look before she left the room.

Letting out a deep, cleansing breath, Jaime started to look around the room with nothing to do. The living room was simple, just a few knick-knacks scattered here and there. The walls were pale blue, giving the room a calming, coastal sort of feel. Jaime's eyes started to drift over one wall that displayed a grouped cluster of framed black-and-white photos. Intrigued by the composition, Jaime stepped closer to take a look.

_Is that…?_

One of the photos bore an eerie resemblance to the one of Harrenhal he’d taken a lifetime ago. But upon closer inspection, Jaime spotted key distinctions that he could differentiate from his shot. The photographer was unquestionably talented, but Jaime couldn't help wonder if Brienne purchased the photograph because it reminded her of him. Perhaps she still felt _something_...

He wanted to believe it was possible.

“Well, I finally managed to open it…” Brienne huffed her amusement with a shake of the head. Entering the living room with two wine glasses in hand, she offered one to Jaime with a slight flush on her cheeks. Once she noticed he was absorbed by the photos on the wall, her eyes filled slowly with tears.

Confused by her reaction, Jaime glanced back at the wall before looking back at her.

“This is very good,” Jaime said while accepting a glass. Both of their arms flinched as soon as their fingers brushed against one another. Without missing a beat, Jaime took a sip before he continued, pointing at the framed picture hanging in the center.

“Reminds me of the Harrenhal photo I had in my dorm.” He glanced at her to see a reaction, but Brienne’s eyes were fixed squarely on the photograph. “Who took this one? I didn't see a signature…”

“Oh, this? It was taken by a student at the university. They have a… an excellent photography course; in the summer, the students exhibit their work at the local galleries. This…this one is my favorite.” She said with a fond voice.

“I can see why,” Jaime said with a knowing smile. “It’s beautiful. Although, to be fair, you can tell why I almost confused it with mine.”

Brienne’s face was starting to burn red. “Yes, it does have some similarities, doesn’t it? Uh... let’s sit down. Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

Jaime was amazed. “You _cooked_? I never imagined you'd ever be so…,” Jaime scrambled for words as he coaxed a smile out of her. “I guess ‘domesticated’ would be the word?”

She took him by surprise by taking a big sip from her glass.

“No, I didn’t cook Jaime. I actually bought it at the store, but I _am_ warming it in the oven.” She looked sheepish as he turned to face her. “I suppose you caught me.”

“Listen… _wench_ , I wouldn’t care if we were only eating cold leftovers from Wolf’s. I just… I just want to be with you. Anywhere.”

Brienne blushed furiously. “Even after all these years, you've never bothered to let go of that, have you?”

Jaime’s smile fell with a puzzled look. ‘Let go of what?”

“Calling me ‘wench’”

Jaime smiled by the sound of her voice; it was warm and filled with happy memories. “I will never let go of that. Like I said, you’ll always be ‘wench’ to me.”

Brienne looked at the floor with a small frown. “I guess some things never change, do they?”

Jaime reached out and lifted her chin carefully, his tender hands startling her, and he was happy to see that she didn’t flinch or pull away.

“But some things do, Brienne. I need you to tell me about the message you gave to Cersei after I left.” Jaime sighed as he stroked her chin with his thumb. “ _I swear_ , Brienne, I told her to give you my number in Skagos, to tell you where I was…”

“It wasn’t just Cersei, Jaime. I called the magazine, after you didn’t show up at the train station. They said you weren't even an intern there.”

“What?” Jaime’s voice started to rise with anger and confusion. “Who the fuck told you _that_?”

“I don’t know who she was, a rather... _unpleasant_ woman. She sounded annoyed and she told me you didn’t work there, that you weren’t even on the list of interns. Before I could say anything else, she hung up on me. I was devastated, Jaime, I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know where else to look for you. I just…” Brienne’s eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away with an irritated sigh.

All the memories of his internship at _Westerosi Geographic_ suddenly hit Jaime like a ton of bricks. “Oh, fuck! Brienne, that receptionist... that was Lollys Stokeworth; Fucking hells, it had to be! Lollys was a temp, a really bad one, and she didn’t know anybody there. Why didn’t you ask to speak to someone else? My boss…?

Brienne’s face hardened with a shadow of contempt. “I didn’t know your boss’ name. You weren’t in your apartment, all your stuff was gone! That woman said you didn’t work there. What was I supposed to think?”

Jaime placed his glass on the coffee table with a gruff expression, afraid that if he held it any tighter, it might shatter into a million pieces. “ _You were supposed to trust me, Brienne_. You were supposed to be rational and assume there was an explanation. You were supposed to try harder and _maybe_ have a little faith in me--”

She waved off Jaime's diatribe with an offended snort, her blue eyes the color of a raging storm. _“Yeah Jaime_. Maybe I _should_ have tried harder to find you. I _should_ have waited for you like a lovesick idiot. But did you ever stop to think that _maybe_ you should have tried harder too?”

Jaime tried to speak but she wouldn't listen.

“No. It’s _my_ turn now. Did you honestly think that it was alright to just _take off_ and not even _try_ to make a call yourself? I know you said my phone was off, but fucking hells, Jaime! You should have tried calling again! Not leave me a message with Cersei! Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep, Jaime? How many nights I obsessed over the ruins of our relationship, trying hard to think of what I said-- _what I did_ to drive you away? I felt so _stupid_. And then your sister told me what you said…” Brienne’s face wrinkled up, bright pink with tears. “I just.. I wanted to _die,_ Jaime.”

The tears flowed openly now; all Jamie could do was wish he had the power to go back in time and erase her pain. He wanted to wipe out all his past mistakes just to show her how much he loved her. Grabbing hold of her hand, Jaime squeezed it hard. “Brienne, the only thing I said to Cersei was to tell you about Skagos, nothing more. Please, _tell me what she said._ I need to know what Cersei told you. _What was in that message you left for me?”_

“Jaime,” she said, squeezing his hand back. “I have to…”

Suddenly the timer in the kitchen sounded, breaking the spell in the living room. “Shit,” Brienne murmured as she wiped tears from her tears, “let me grab the dinner out of the oven, OK?”

“Sure, of course,” Jaime said in a soft voice. As she stood from the sofa _,_ all he wanted to do was scream, tell her that he’d waited fifteen fucking _years_ and he just couldn't stand to wait another moment. Nevertheless, he let go of her hand while she gave him a sad smile before walking towards the kitchen.

“Fuck,” Jaime sighed, scrubbing his eyes as he leaned far back into the sofa. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling completely drained. _Could_ they have another chance to start over? Did Brienne even want that? After a moment of forethought, he realized that he had forgotten to ask if she was still single.

In sudden need of air, he stood up and went to the window, looking out at the city lights twinkling in the horizon. He wandered slowly around the living room, discovering a row of pictures tucked in a nook inside a corner of the room. The photographer was clearly the same person who had taken the Harrenhal picture, but these were all photos of _Brienne_.

 _I thought she said a student took that shot of Harrenhal_ he thought, looking closer at them. In one, she was sitting on a park bench, looking shyly at the camera; in another she was at the beach with her beautiful long legs tucked against her chest, half of her face hidden under a big, floppy hat. A third one showed Brienne in a close up of her eyes as she peered at the camera, her mouth slightly open in a thoughtful expression.

Jaime frowned. The person who took these had a strong connection to Brienne, that much was obvious. Is this what she didn’t want to tell him? That she was with another, a _photographer_ of all things? Maybe she wanted to tell him in person that he shouldn’t foster any hopes of getting back together. That too many years apart had withered away any love she felt for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that this had always been a possibility from the moment she called to invite him over. Imagining her with some other man felt like all Seven Hells, and he could no longer decide if he wanted to know the truth about Cersei’s lies, or get the fuck out of Brienne’s life before she told him that she was with someone else.

Jaime's thoughts started to spiral with doubt while his eyes drifted to a photo in the far corner. It was almost hidden between the others. Brienne was in this photo too, but there was someone else with her that he couldn’t quite see…

His heart started to pound violently. Jaime heard Brienne’s voice at a distance, mentioning something about dinner, but he couldn't tell because his ears were ringing painfully; he felt as though he had been submerged underwater, and he was fighting to be let out, the lack of air burning his lungs.

He wanted to scream.

“Jaime, did you hear me? Dinner is…” Brienne’s voice trailed off once she realized what Jaime was looking at. The smile dropped from her face.

He turned around, his head throbbing. Both hands were clenched tightly on the framed photo.

 “Brienne? Who the hell is this?”

“Jaime, please calm down, I…”

His voice cracked the silence of the room with a furious roar. “ _Who the **fuck** is this, Brienne?_ ”

She flinched as fat tears slid down her cheeks, and Jaime's eyes bore into hers as his voice cracked in a devastated whimper. “Please. _Tell me.”_ There was no more strength left in Jaime's voice; he was bruised, battered and on the verge of breaking. “Who is this with you?”

Brienne tried to reach out to him, but he backed away shaking his head.

“Tell me who this is, Brienne.” His voice sounded broken to his ears, and Jaime willed himself to remain calm and not break everything in sight.  He took a clumsy step towards Brienne. “ _Who_?” he asked again.

“It’s…it’s… Joanna.  _Jo,_ actually,” she said with a trembling voice, looking terrified at Jaime’s face but trying desperately to avoid his eyes. He stared at the picture, not being able to stop looking at it. Jaime then shifted his gaze back to her.

 Waiting.

Brienne took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s my daughter, Jaime.”

She finally lifted her eyes to look at him with a slack face, her lips trembling, and eyes swollen with tears.

_“Our daughter.”_

Jaime felt his world tilt violently on its axis, as Brienne’s words started to echo in his mind, tearing into what was left of his heart.

_Our daughter._

_Our daughter._

_Our daughter..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime have a confrontation, Jaime meets his daughter, and Tyrion makes jokes in poor taste ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Happy Friday!  
> Well, here we have chapter 6. I have to apologize from the get-go because it's pretty long, longer than I anticipated but hopefully you won't be bored to death.  
> A lot had to be re-written to tie up certain things, and I'm currently battling with an annoying case of bronchitis, which has me in coughing fits. So forgive me if this chapter seems a bit rambling and the narrative is not as tight and streamlined as I would have liked it to be, but I'm all pumped with Dayquil as we speak. It makes writing a wee bit challenging ;)  
> Anyway, many questions answered here. Others, will be answered in the next chapter.
> 
> Roll 'em!

Brienne felt as if the ground was shifting below her, threatening to swallow her up and engulf her in darkness. She would have welcomed it with open arms rather than see the look on Jaime’s face; a flushed study of tears, disbelief, and untethered rage.

“Joanna,” he said in a slow, hollow voice. “You named her... Joanna.”

Brienne took a trembling breath, whimpering in fatigue. “I named her after your mother. I know how much you loved her…” Drawing in a deep breath, she struggled to speak beneath his sharp glare.

“Jaime, I was going to tell you, I swear. That’s why I invited you over here tonight, be-because... I wanted you to know—”

“ _You wanted me to know_?” Jaime’s face screwed up into a tight, embittered smirk. “Did you really, Brienne?” His voice dropped to a vindictive whisper. “Fifteen years of silence and now you tell me I have a _daughter_?” he shouted.

Brienne had never seen Jaime this furious before. She felt her heart start to race as he stepped forward with a jutted jaw and a dark look.

“What did you want me to know? That you never bothered to tell me you were pregnant?” She opened her mouth to speak, but still, he raged on. “Fuck! If I hadn’t left that damn note on Missed Connections, you never would have told me. I could've spent my whole _fucking_ life not knowing I had a daughter. _How could you do this_?”

Brienne faltered, “Jaime, I…”

“ANSWER ME!” he yelled.

She could fell the bottled anger finally rising up inside her despite the overwhelming feeling of guilt, and the ripping sadness that she felt for him.

_For them._

“How could I leave you? I NEVER FUCKING LEFT YOU, JAIME!” she yelled back. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until a couple of weeks after you disappeared. I was desperate! Can you even begin to understand that? I was desperate enough to go to Cersei and tell her everything. She promised to find out where you were, she promised to help me. When she got back in touch with me, she said she had a message from you. And that was the final blow, Jaime. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with us,” Brienne said, her voice lowering to a whisper, overwhelmed with the memories of how her heart had broken slowly with Jaime’s betrayal.

“I was pregnant and alone. Fuck, I was so scared; I didn’t know what to do. I took a semester off and went back to Tarth. I changed my number because I didn’t want anyone to know where I was.”

Jaime scanned her face in the dim light of the room, and he seemed to be desperately seeking for signs of a lie. In that moment, Brienne really couldn’t blame him.

After a long silence, he spoke again in a calmer voice. “Did you go to your father?”

Brienne felt an old, familiar pain flare inside of her chest. “My father died, Jaime. He passed away a few weeks after you left. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him.” Her eyes filled with tears at the memory. “He never even knew about Jo.”

Jaime looked over at Brienne with an expression that may have been something close to sympathy. Turning towards the window, Jaime stared at the city lights below while speaking to her in a cool, detached voice.

“What did she tell you? I want to know exactly what Cersei said to you that made you give up on us.”

Brienne closed her eyes. “She told me that you didn’t want to be tied down. That you were happy by yourself, that you wanted to be free, that you no longer wanted the responsibility of a relationship, much less of a child. She said you’d left to make a fresh start... and that your career was first now.” Her voice trembled as she recited the vile words that oozed from Cersei’s mouth years ago, words that she’d once been stupid enough to believe. “She looked at me with such pity, Jaime, with something that I thought was sorrow. That’s why I believed her. Because I thought that in a way, she was on my side.”

He slowly turned to look straight at her. “You never knew me at all, did you? All that time we spent together, everything I said to you, the countless times I told you that I loved you. I guess in your mind, everything was shit, because you could never bring yourself to fully trust me. Yes, Cersei made up filthy lies to split us up, she knew you were pregnant and she kept that from me, and I’ll never forgive her for that.” His eyes, that had always looked at her with such tenderness and awe were now hard as steel.

“But you, Brienne? I can never forgive you for giving up on me.”

Gods, were the tears never going to stop? Brienne thought, as she felt them rolling freely down her face, splashing the front of her dress.

She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. “That’s not true Jaime. I didn’t give up on you, but please understand. I was scared, confused, fucking heartbroken! I didn’t know what to feel, what to think. All I knew is that you’d disappeared and then Cersei…I believed her.” Brienne said in a low voice, bowing her head. “Fuck, I believed her.”

Jaime stared at her, “Yeah, you believed her instead of believing in me, Brienne. And I do take responsibility for my part, I know I shouldn’t have left like I did, or trusted Cersei to…” he paused, and she saw that he was having trouble breathing. “She had been so nice to you, so willing to make amends, that I actually thought…FUCK!” he suddenly yelled, his hands balling up into fists, knuckles turning white.

“Jaime, she fooled us both”, Brienne said moving towards him. “We were both victims, I…”

He looked at her, his emerald eyes hard. “She fooled us both, but that doesn’t excuse your mistrust, Brienne. And because of that, I now have a daughter who doesn’t even know I exist!”

Brienne shook her head. “No, Jaime, she’s always known who her father is. I've never kept that from her. She’s actually a fan of your work,” Brienne said with a sad smile, trying hard to dismantle the wall that stood between them. “She loves photography.” She waved a hand towards the frames that hung on the wall. “She took all of these, and she always asks…she asks me if I think you would be proud of her.” Brienne reached out a shaking hand and put it lightly on his shoulder. “Jo’s so proud of you, of who you are.”

 Jaime snorted, brushing her hand off. “Proud of what? Of a father who she believes abandoned her? Proud of a deadbeat who walked out on her before she was even born, who told her mother that he didn’t want them because his career came first? Is that the father she’s proud of Brienne?”

Brienne shook her head as Jaime spoke. “I nev—I never said those things to her. Even though I felt so much hate for you at first, I always told her how much I loved you and that…”

He interrupted her. “That doesn’t cut it Brienne. The fact is that I have a daughter who thinks I abandoned her and her mother. The truth is that I’ve spent fifteen years of my fucking life, not knowing I had a daughter because you assumed the worst of me.” He looked at her then, with eyes filled with such anger that she hardly recognized the man she had been in love with all those years ago.

As he walked past her and opened the door to her apartment, he lingered at the threshold and spoke in a voice that was raw with heartbreak.

“Fuck you, Brienne.”

***

He called as Brienne sat at the kitchen table, unable to stop herself from shaking. She stared at his name flashing on the screen, pausing before answering the call, not knowing if she could take any more of his accusations.

He didn’t even let her speak. “I want to meet her. I want to meet my daughter.”

She answered in a trembling voice. “Of course, Jaime. You have every right…”

“Don’t _tell_ me what my rights are Brienne, because I really don’t want to hear that from you.” He paused for what felt like an eternity before speaking again. “When can I meet her?”

Cringing from his tone, and fighting back the tears threatening to choke her, she said gently, “Let me talk to her first, ok? She has no idea you’re here.”

“You’ve become quite good at keeping secrets,” he said sarcastically.  After an uncomfortable minute of silence, Jaime spoke softly. “I was wrong about you, Brienne.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tight.

“I always thought you were shit at lying, that you weren’t capable of deceiving anybody. As it turns out, you proved yourself quite skilled at it.”

He ended the call before she could even form a reply.

 

***

“So? How did it go?”

Catelyn Stark’s question lingered over the phone for a long time; when her former student-turned-collegue failed to respond, she had her answer. All that could be heard from Brienne’s end of the line was a prolonged silence.

“Shit, that bad?”

Brienne leaned her elbows against the kitchen counter with the threat of a migraine looming overhead. “Worse. I'm pretty sure he hates me.”

Catelyn’s eyes drifted over the bookshelves lining her office. Next to a row of books on medieval chivalry and codes of honor, was a framed picture of her standing besides Brienne, taken the day she was awarded the Westeros Higher Education Scholarship to graduate school. Irritated by the ghost of Jaime Lannister, Catelyn Stark tossed her reading glasses aside and flung them across a stack of ungraded exams.

“Is this the part where I'm supposed to remind you of the Seven Hells you had to face raising a kid by yourself for nearly fifteen years?” Brienne winced as her old mentor continued with a snarl in her voice. “Because I'm struggling with words here. He _abandoned_ you, sweetling. I’ll sooner feel sympathy for a viper slithering in a daycare before I’ll feel anything remotely—”

Tired of arguing, tired of all of the anger, Brienne interrupted Catelyn in a soft yet firm voice. “It's not his fault, Cat, alright? We discussed this. Neither of us knew Cersei hated me enough to do this to us. Jaime is as much a victim here as I am”

Catelyn rolled her eyes as she looked down at her fingernails.“And we also talked about how Jaime should've tried harder to find you, Brienne. You don’t just take off to Skagos for gods know how long, and leave a message for your girlfriend with your sister, and then think everything’s ok. I’m sorry, but in my opinion, he fucked up.”

Brienne leaned her head against her hand and closed her eyes. “To be fair Cat, I could have tried harder to find him. I should've trusted him...”

“How in seven fucking hells could Jaime believe you abandoned him while he was away on his first assignment? Is he really that stupid?” Brienne struggled with a reply. “To a degree, I can perhaps understand why you believed his evil bitch of a sister. You were young, naïve. But for Jaime not to suspect that something was amiss in Cersei’s story? Come on!”

Brienne sighed impatiently. “Cat, Jaime was desperate; I don’t think he ever imagined what Cersei was capable of. He used to be very defensive about her; he’d go so far as to protect her from their father when she was struggling with addiction.”

Catelyn scoffed her disgust into the phone. “I suppose I’m relieved that he didn’t dare insult you and ask if you’re sure he’s Jo’s father.”

Brienne shook her head over the phone, knowing that convincing Catelyn Stark of Jaime’s innocence was at this point futile. He assumed the worst of her now, but he knew that she was loyal to a fault and extremely cautious. They had always used protection, but even condoms had a small percentage of failure; a percentage large enough to change their lives forever.

Wanting to change the subject, Brienne asked about her daughter. “How did the sleepover go? Did Jo behave?”

Catelyn tucked a fist beneath her chin with a faint smile. “Fine. I dropped her off at school this morning without any problems. She spent most of the night playing video games with Rickon after he helped her with her homework. Oh, your daughter is a clever one! She tried to convince me that it was ok for her to have a bowl of ice cream for dinner. She told me, ‘Mom lets me do it all the time.’”

Brienne laughed into the phone. “She may be clever, but she's not a very good liar.”

Catelyn replied playfully. “Just like her mom.” The grin melted off Brienne’s face, remembering Jaime’s cruel words about her being a liar.

From across the room, Brienne could hear a soft knock on the door. “Cat, I have to go, ok? Talk to you soon.” Ending the call, she ran to the front door with an expectant look on her face, smiling brightly at the man who stood in front of her.

“Oh… I could kiss you right now!”

As soon as she said the words, Hyle Hunt’s face broke out into a wide grin and hopeful eyes. “And I’d be totally ok with that,” he said teasingly

Standing in front of her door, dressed up in a smart yet rumpled, navy blue suit with an unbuttoned collar and a loosened tie, Hyle handed over one of many grocery bags to Brienne as he fumbled with other items in his arms. Uncomfortable by his quip reply, she transferred most of the grocery from his hands to hers with a polite smile.

Hyle trailed silently behind Brienne. While spilling the canvas shopping bags onto the kitchen floor, she sighed in relief when Hyle presented her a freshly laundered suit hanging in a dry cleaning bag.

“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou. I forgot to pick this up.”

Delighted with her gratitude, Hyle smirked with pride as he helped her unload the groceries, working together as they emptied the bags in an almost rehearsed rhythm. Suddenly her face changed, glancing over everything with a slight frown.

“Oh! Did you maybe remember…?” Hyle extracted a small paper bag from his coat pocket; it was a prescription for Jo’s allergies.

Brienne’s shoulders dissolved in relief. “You’re amazing.”

Smiling, Hyle grabbed a bottle of imported beer from Brienne's fridge with ease. Taking a quick drag from the bottle, he leaned his weight against the kitchen counter while stuffing his necktie into a coat pocket.

“Hey, I make a promise, I keep it,” he said with a wink.

Touched by his thoughtfulness, Brienne tried her best and threw him a saucy wink of her own. “I know you do,” she said playfully. Hyle blushed, as he took another sip of beer.

For a long time, neither one spoke. Although Hyle was a successful trader with an investment firm on the Street of Steel, he could’ve easily sent his assistant to do all of Brienne’s errands during the evening rush-hour. Instead, he did it himself. He loved playing ‘knight in shining armor,’ and he loved Jo.

Loved her like she was his own daughter...

But even though he and Brienne shared so much, neither one had the courage to address the elephant in the room.

Trying to get a sense of how things went during her dinner with Jaime Lannister, Hyle cleared his throat with a hum of nerves.

“By the way… Jo’s class is taking that field trip to the space observatory next week? I left her permission slip on the fridge for you to sign last month, but…”

Brienne growled under her breath as she started up the dishwasher. “Damn, I don’t know why I keep forgetting that.” Not wanting it to slip her mind again, she snapped the permission slip off the fridge and promptly signed it.

Though Brienne was an attentive mother, she had been extremely distracted lately. Not only had Jaime reappeared in her life, but she was also in the midst of co-publishing a research paper with Catelyn and two other professors.

“You know, I was thinking that you do so much for me and Jo. I wanted to ask if I could authorize you as one of Jo’s legal guardians at her school. You're listed as one of her emergency contacts, but it would make me feel so much better to know that if I can’t pick her up from school, I can count on you to be there.” Brienne smiled at him fondly.

Taken aback by the compliment, he nodded and swallowed a grin as Brienne headed towards Jo’s room to leave the permission slip on her desk, while Hyle lingered in the kitchen. He cleared his throat loudly when she walked back in, and Brienne looked at him curiously.

“You know… It’s funny you mention that…” he said, opening the cabinet below the sink to recycle his bottle cap. Near the bin he saw the contents of the garbage can, spotting the take out meal Brienne purchased for her dinner with Jaime.

Hyle suddenly forgot what he was about to say before. “How did your dinner go?” he asked uncertainly, trying to hide the anger in his voice. Brienne stood at the kitchen door, with a sad look on her face.

“Well, not—not great. He was furious... for obvious reasons,” she finished in a low voice.

Hyle closed the cabinet doors with arched eyebrows. “Really? Well, I guess he’s entitled to that.” Brienne winced at the look on Hyle’s face, and his sudden judgmental tone. She continued in a rushed voice, “He’ll be here this weekend to pick up Jo. I think he said he’s taking her to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Hyle asked with a mocking tone. “He knows Jo’s almost fifteen right? I doubt she’s going to be excited about a place she hasn’t been to since she was ten.”

Brienne’s glare at him was fierce enough to make him look at his shoes. “ Actually, she was fine with the zoo, Hyle. She wants to meet her father, it doesn’t matter to her where he takes her.”

He looked sheepish, knowing he had made a mistake. “Well, yeah, sure. I know,” he said while he looked in Brienne’s direction, wanting to smooth over his previous misstep. Hyle put a hand on her arm.

“Bree… give yourself a break, alright? From what you said, neither one of you knew the truth. It’s a shit situation all around, but it's not your fault. I’m sure that with time, he and Jo will bond eventually. This stuff isn’t going to fix itself overnight, so… relax, ok?”

She smiled with a half-hearted grin, musing over the fact that ever since Jaime had re-appeared, Hyle refused to even say his name. 

“Thanks,” Brienne said softly, wrapping both arms around him and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Melting into her hug, Hyle smiled into her hair. 

“You know what? We make a good team.” 

“We do, don’t we?” Brienne grinned in reply to him as she turned away, rubbing his shoulder fondly.

He grabbed her arm gently, turning her around to face him, his eyes shining. “Maybe we should get married.”

Brienne snorted at him with a dry laugh. “Cute. That’s really cute, Hyle.”

He gave her a stern look. “I’m serious. I think we should get married”

She froze like a statue, with a momentous look on her face, as he continued speaking in a rushed voice.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I made partner at the firm last quarter; I make good money, you and Jo can have a comfortable life with me.” The more animated Hyle’s voice turned, the more solemn Brienne’s face became. Feeling optimistic and not understanding the expression on her face, he continued with a small laugh in his voice.

“I think the three of us will make a great team, don’t you? It’ll be you, me and Jo; our little family against the world!” he said excitedly.

Brienne was speechless. She couldn’t manage to stammer out a response.

“So?” Hyle said, looking hopeful. “What do you think?”

***

Jaime Lannister stared at the young girl in front of him, still not believing what he was seeing.

  
His daughter was beautiful. She looked so much like Cersei at that age, with a stunning profile and emerald-green eyes. But where his sister's beauty was cold and arrogant, Joanna Tarth’s was warm and playful, exuding kindness and empathy. The fact that she was with him now, tolerating his ridiculous questions about her likes and dislikes, giving him an identical version of his own amused smirk, told Jaime that his daughter had as much of her mother as she had from the Lannisters. The sprinkle of tiny freckles across her face and shoulders were pure Brienne.

  
“So…” he began, feeling very much like a fool. “Uh, do you like… tee shirts?”

Jo stared at Jaime with a tepid look on her face. Responding to her estranged father with a blank stare, she fought back a laugh and spoke in a dry, sarcastic voice.

“Nah. I hate wearing clothes.”

Seeing Jaime’s flustered expression, she finally relented, giggling loudly. “You’re so easy! I'm kidding! She rolled her eyes at his confusion. “Yeah, shirts are fine.”

Fully dressed in denim cutoffs, a pale pink tank top, white canvas sneakers and a nylon bag slung over her shoulder, Jo sunk both hands into her pockets with a neutral expression on her face, waiting for his next move.

Jaime couldn’t respond; he just stood there with wide eyes, vaguely reminding Joanna of a deer in the headlights. Holding up a tee shirt with a juvenile print of elephants, Jaime lowered the shirt with sagging shoulders. Reading the disappointment across his face, Joanna pulled her camera out of her bag and snapped a quick picture of him. As soon as she lowered the lens, she smiled at him.

It took Jaime’s breath away.

He shook off his uncertainty, and dropped the tee shirt back on the clothing rack. “Wanna… go check out another exhibit then?”

His daughter nodded, following Jaime outside with a burning curiosity. Jo was still trying to figure out her newly found relationship with her father, remembering when her mother had picked her up from her study group a few days ago. She had sat down with Jo and told her that her father wanted to meet her. Unexpected as it was, Jo was hopeful about meeting Jaime Lannister. She had never held any kind of resentment against him; her mother always spoke of Jaime with respect and even a hint of pride, despite his abandonment of them both.

But as it turned out, her father had never abandoned them at all.

Glancing down at her newest pic, Jo’s smile fell into a slack face. After a moment, she looked up at her father with a kindness in her eyes and a conciliatory smile.

 

 ***

Just as they wandered out of the chimpanzee exhibit, Jaime spied a group of boys looking appreciatively at his daughter.

Three rat-faced little bastards practically broke their damn necks just to throw eyes at her. To Jaime, they were nothing but harmless, giggling little punks until he saw one of them make lewd gestures with his hands. They all froze up in fear as soon as Jaime's eyes fell on them, their faces dropping once he curled his lip and glowered at them with a blistering look.

As they walked towards the big cat exhibit, Jaime looked at his daughter again with a bit of panic. He was at a total loss feeling like his head was about to explode from all the doom-filled thoughts pouring into his head.

Trying to calm himself, Jaime was forced to consider the fact that he wasn't the first father to feel this anxiety about his daughter. In a sense, it was the curse of every father; to know what boys really thought whenever they leered at their baby girls. And there was no denying that Joanna was a beautiful girl. _Young lady_ , Jaime thought with a brief, morose sigh. _She's not a kid anymore..._

In a couple of years, she’d probably be just as tall as her mother. And like Brienne, there was something about Jo that seemed almost unattainable. She was a thoughtful girl, but also a spitfire, seemingly afraid of nothing and no one, with a confidence that Jaime recognized as his own trademark of sorts. Still reeling from Brienne’s belief of his abandonment, he couldn’t help but feel amazed by this magnificent child that they had created.

“What's your favorite animal?”

Jo looked up expectantly at her father with a quizzical look on her face. Sipping on her raspberry-blue slushie, she paused mid-slurp with bright eyes and an infectious smile.

Jaime was taken aback. “Hmmm. Tough question. Which animal? Huh.” His voice blathered for a moment before he could respond. “Well… I like…all animals, I guess.” he answered, feeling very stupid.

Darting a curious look at her father with scrupulous eyes, Jo resumed slurping. “Well… my favorite _aquatic_ animal is the shark—”

Jaime looked at his daughter with interest. “Shark?”

“Uh huh. Great whites are wicked. Hammerheads are cool too. My favorite avian is the hawk and I guess the spotted owl. Amphibians… hmm. Pythons, I guess; turtles too. Insects? Lady bugs. As for mammals… I looove hippos.”

Amused, and slightly impressed at her thoughtful litany of preferred animals, Jaime tried to store all of her answers in his memory as he chuckled.

Jo chewed on her red straw as they continued towards the next exhibit. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jaime saw two zebras mating in the open yard with people gathered around to point and laugh. Feeling the sweat line his forehead, he angled his body and tried to block the carnal display from Jo with a goofy stride in his walk. “Sooo. Hippos, huh?”

“Mmmhhmm. They're cute; I love their ears when they flip in the water, but did you know they're also some of the deadliest mammals?”

As they walked on, suddenly Jaime thought of an answer. “What do you think about felines?”

Jo shrugged indifferently as they made their way through the big cat exhibit. “I like cheetahs, I guess.”

That caused a slight stumble in Jaime’s step. “Really? Don't… Don't you like _lions_? You know… uh, the king of the jungle? The uh…” Finding nothing else to say, Jaime down heavily on a bench, wearily putting his head in his hands. Fuck, this was hard. He didn’t know how to do this, he was going to be a terrible father, he…

Jaime felt a warm hand on top of his own, and realized that Jo had sat down quietly beside him, a concerned look on her face.

“You don’t have to try so hard, you know?” she said, her green eyes fixed on his. “I know that you think I hate you or something, but I don’t. My mom always said that you were really great, and even when she thought you left us, she never told me anything bad about you.” Jaime felt the bit of strength he had faltering under his daughter’s watchful gaze.

“Mom showed me your pictures in the papers, in the magazines. She told me who you were, how you guys met. I asked her lots of times why you weren’t with us, but she always said that it wasn’t meant to be. That you had a different mission in life, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love me,” Jo said, her eyes acquiring a thoughtful expression. “See, even when my mom though you didn’t want us, she never said one bad word about you. She kept telling me you would probably be super proud of me if you knew me.”

She gave him a little smile, looking at her hand on top of Jaime’s. “My last name is Tarth, but your name is on my birth certificate, did you know that?” He shook his head, overwhelmed, as Jo squeezed his hand, looking at him kindly. “Mom would have never put you on my birth certificate if she really hated you.”

He couldn’t help it now, his eyes welling rapidly with tears of so much sadness and regret. “Joanna, I never knew about you. I swear, if I had known…”

“I know. Mom told me what your sister did. My aunt, I guess I should say.” She looked over at Jaime, her pretty features scrunched up in distaste. “I don’t think I’m gonna like her very much,” Jo said firmly.

Jaime couldn’t help laughing at this, amazed that he could still laugh at anything. Jo lifted her hand from Jaime’s to rummage through her bag. “Here, I wanted to show you these. I…I want to know what you think,” she said with what seemed like embarrassment. Holding onto her camera while she got comfortable on the bench, Jaime flipped through the pictures in thoughtful reflection. _These are really good._..

Jo’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Female lions are ok, but I don't like the males all that much.”

He felt a smile growing on his face. “Really? How come?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I don't know. I guess it's because all they do is sleep, eat and reproduce. Female lions do all the work. They raise their cubs, they do all the hunting and defend the pride. The king of the jungle is a lazy, worthless hack. No wonder they get poached all the time… the only thing that makes them cool is their hair.”

Jaime ran his fingers though his hair, suddenly feeling a bout of uncertainty. “Where did you learn all this?”

“School, field trips to the zoo, tour guides, books, shows, documentaries…”

“Right, right. Got it.” Jaime said, holding up a hand while shaking his head.

A moment passed as silence loomed between father and daughter. Together, they watched two lions up close as they pawed at a tractor tire inside the sandy den. Jaime hunched over on his knees and leaned his weight on his elbows.

“Mom loves lions.”

That got Jaime’s attention. “Yeah?”

Jo nodded into her blue slushie while she shrugged with one shoulder. “Yep. A lot.”

Intrigued, Jaime decided to play it cool as he pressed his daughter for more information. He suddenly felt like he was on assignment, interviewing a coveted source in the field. He wished that his old friend and mentor, Arthur Dayne were there to offer him some advice.

“Did your mom tell you that?”

She took a deep sip of her drink before chewing on her red straw thoughtfully. After a moment of consideration, she wrinkled her forehead in reflection. “She didn’t need to. Every time we came to the zoo, our last stop was always this exhibit. She once said, ‘Jo, always save the best for last; otherwise you'll have nothing to look forward to.’”

Jaime began to sit taller once Jo said that. “Really?” he asked. But she didn’t respond, just pointed towards one of the lions in the exhibit.

“See that one there? The one with the limp? That’s Tytos. I think he has a birth defect… Anyways, mom loved him—like, a lot. One day she just sat where you’re sitting for an hour. All she did was watch him.” Jo’s voice started to grow sharp as she stabbed the ice in her drink with more force than was necessary. “Sometimes she would get really sad visiting the lion den; after the first couple times I saw her crying here, I remember asking her why she wanted to visit something that made her feel sad. My uncle Hyle said that to her too.”

Jaime felt his face tightening, his blood beginning to boil, not wanting to ask what he so badly wanted to know. “Your uncle _Hyle_? _Hyle Hunt_?”

Jo looked surprised. “Yeah. Do you know him?”

He answered though gritted teeth. “We all went to school together; him, your mom and me.”

Recognition flashed in Jo’s eyes. “That’s right! Mom told me that, I totally forgot.” Jo continued unaware of the change that had taken place in Jaime, his features hardening more and more as she spoke, his head pounding.

“Yeah, he’s known me since I was a baby.” Jo looked at Jaime and asked, “Did you know he was there when I was born?”

He felt a dangerous surge of rage threatening to spill out, and he willed himself to breathe, to calm down, not wanting to frighten his daughter. Hyle _fucking_ Hunt. That weasel had always lusted after Brienne. And he had been there lingering, waiting for the right time.

And Cersei had given it to him. Now, Hunt had Brienne, like he had always wanted.

 _He had his daughter_.

Jaime knew that he was going to have to address this with Brienne. He wanted a fucking explanation as to why that asshole had been with her when Jo was born, why the fuck she had gone to him in the first place. But right now, he focused on his daughter, on what she was telling him about her mother.

Trying to hold back a grim face, Jaime turned to his daughter. “So what did she say? About the lion, I mean.”

Jo just stabbed the soft slush in her cup. “She didn’t really say anything; she just said something weird, like, ‘I just want him to be happy.’”

Jaime lowered his face while Joanna continued blissfully unaware of the turmoil her father was experiencing.

“I think she felt sorry for him because of the limp—he’s supposed to be the king of the jungle, but… he’s not. He’s doomed; trapped inside of a concrete pit for the rest of his life while all the other lions hate him. He just sits there under that tree all day, alone and bored and just... waiting to die.”

Off at a distance, he could hear a trail of kindergartners waddle past the lion exhibit. They were all holding hands with other classmates while following a tour guide with a dozen parents following along as chaperones. Most of the parents were busy looking at their phones rather than their children. Jaime was heartbroken to see most of the kids try to get their parent’s attention. He glared at the absent-minded parents in spite, hating them for showing more respect to their phones rather than their child. He wanted to go up to them, smack the hollow look off their faces and scream, ‘Do you know how lucky you are? Don’t you know how fast these kids grow? They won’t stay this little forever! Don’t you realize that every moment you waste on your phone is another moment that you’ll never get back? Do you know what I’d give for what you have now?’

Jaime buried his face in his hands before he realized that Jo was looking at him with a confused look on her face. With tearful eyes, he realized that even though he had missed everything up until this point, he still had this one moment with Joanna.

_His baby girl._

Jo kept staring at her father in wonder, licking her lips nervously unaware of the purple mouth and bright blue tongue that the drink had left behind. Jaime’s face broke out into a watery chuckle once their eyes met, and not knowing how to respond, she hesitantly offered him her slushie with a painful, crooked smile.

“Wanna sip?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose so he could blink back tears, Jaime whispered, ‘of course’ in a rough voice. As soon as he took the cup from her, he stabbed the ice with her mangled straw before he started to grin. He suddenly realized that his daughter chewed her straw just like he used to. With a half-hearted sip, he handed it back to Jo with a husky voice and a broken smile.

“Blue’s my favorite.”

Joanna shoved the red straw back into her mouth and started to chew on it again, brooding with distant eyes. Her eyes lingered over Tytos, the sad lion sleeping alone beneath the shade of a scratched up tree.

“Yeah… mine too.” She looked at him, suddenly amused. “And it’s Jo.”

“Huh?” Jaime asked, confused.

“You called me Joanna. No one calls me that except mom, and that’s just when I’m in huuuuuge trouble. So…it’s Jo.”

Jaime grinned, and extended his hand. “Very nice to meet you, Jo.”

His daughter burst out laughing. “Likewise.”

 ***

 

As they approached Brienne’s door, Jaime smiled as he brought up a hand towards the bell. He didn’t want this day to end. All he wanted was to spend more time with his daughter.

A hollow rapping filled the hallway and the door opened with a quick sweep. Brienne’s eyes locked onto Jaime’s with a worried face, her eyes darting over his, appearing to survey his face for any kind of anger. Her gaze shifted onto her daughter, before her face erupted into a dazzling smile.

“Did you guys have a good time?” she asked, and Jaime thought he detected a note of insecurity in her voice.

“I think so.” He squeezed his daughter's hand with a broad smile. “Jo?”

Jo twisted her face up in a funny look wondering about the strange smiles plastered on her parents’ face looking expectantly at her. She shrugged, before giving Jaime a smile of her own.

“Yeah… I think so too.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you had fun,” Brienne said, darting an unsure glance in Jaime’s direction before turning to Jo. “Go wash your hands for dinner, ok? It’s almost ready.”

Jo’s face lit up in anticipation with a sudden idea. “Hey mom? Can Jaime stay?”

Brienne looked immediately flustered, a nervous wince appearing on her face, not able to form any kind of response. Jaime decided to bring her discomfort up a notch, wondering what she would do. He spoke up, mimicking Jo’s inflection with hard eyes and a lukewarm smile.

“Yeah, _mom_. Can Jaime stay for dinner?”

Brienne fixed her blue eyes on Jaime, her face turning a deeper shade of red. Inside, she could hear Hyle setting the table for dinner with the clatter of silverware, and couldn’t help but imagine what Jaime would say if he knew how involved Hyle Hunt was in both her and her daughter’s lives. But right now, she was unwilling to get into an argument with him in front of Jo.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. Maybe... another night.” Brienne said cautiously, avoiding Jaime’s eyes.

She watched both father and daughter as their faces melted with obvious disappointment, and was suddenly overwhelmed at how similar they were. Brienne found herself regretting her words with a flush of embarrassment.

“I know that your… father would probably like to join us,” she saw Jaime’s eyes soften at that. “But right now is not a good time.”

Jo looked thoughtful. “How about Saturday, then? ”

Seeing Jaime’s expectant eyes, Brienne sighed with a firm nod of the head and a relenting shrug. “Sure. Fine. Saturday. He can join us for dinner on Saturday. If…if he’s free, of course.”

Jaime looked at his daughter instead of Brienne. “Of course I’m free. I’ll be here.”

Jo smiled up at her mother—a dimpled smile that was a perfect copy of Jaime’s and Brienne felt haunted; she didn’t know if by agreeing to this dinner, she had set herself up for more heartbreak and hurt. But she knew one thing: whatever Jaime’s intention was, she would make damn sure her daughter did not get caught in an all-out war between them.

 

***

 

As he got ready for dinner with Brienne and his daughter, Jaime couldn’t help wondering if this was a good idea. Jo was smart, observant. There was no way she wouldn’t pick up on the tension between them. But he wasn’t about to back out of this, not when it was his daughter who wanted him there.

He also wanted a chance to confront Brienne about Jo’s mention of Hyle Hunt. _Uncle Hyle_. Each time Jaime remembered his daughter’s words, he felt like punching a damn hole through a wall. He wanted to hear from Brienne why the _fuck_ that cunt had been present at his daughter’s birth, why he was so close to Jo. He knew that Brienne most likely thought that he didn’t deserve any kind of explanation, but damn if he wasn’t going to question her until he got one.  
He looked at himself in the mirror, and cringed. He looked exhausted, ragged and just fucking  _old_. Jaime sighed, reminding himself he had a daughter who was almost fifteen and nearly as tall as he was.

He _was_ old.

With a shrill, his phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw his brother’s name.

“Tyrion! This is a surprise. Aren’t your Saturday nights usually reserved for brothel visits and binge-drinking?” Jaime said into the phone with a smirk.

He could hear Tyrion’s laugh. “Brother, you know me so well. Where do you think I am now?” he teased, and Jaime could hear female laughter in the background. “I’m getting my cock sucked as we speak.”

“I’m hanging up, Tyrion,” Jaime said, shaking his head, not doubting for a minute that his brother would call him while in the middle of a blowjob.

“I’m joking, you fool! Gods Jaime, you really do need to lighten up your mood. Always so sullen…” Tyrion’s voice trailed off in the wake of Jaime’s continued silence. “Ok, sorry. I was just calling because I know tonight is your big dinner with Brienne and your daughter, and I wanted to give you moral support. That’s all.”

Jaime couldn’t help smiling at his younger brother’s words. Yes, Tyrion could drive anyone insane with his endless and often tasteless jests. But he loved and admired Jaime, and was often looking out for him. “Thanks. I admit…I’m really nervous about tonight.” Jaime said with a sigh.

“Don’t be. From what you told me, Joanna sounds very mature and highly intelligent. No doubt she takes after her uncle. But in any case, I’m sure she’ll make the whole thing easy for you.” Tyrion said with certainty.

Jaime sighed deeply. “It’s Brienne I’m worried about, Tyrion. I don’t know how to talk to her anymore, and there’s so much shit I need to know. The Hyle Hunt thing, what he means to my daughter, to Brienne…”

“Look Jaime, take things slow ok? You and Brienne just found each other after fifteen years. You didn’t even know you had a daughter until a few days ago. You didn’t know Cersei ruined everything for both of you. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you have to show a bit of patience. You may not get all your answers tonight, but I’m sure Brienne will, in time, explain everything you want to know. Just try to enjoy your time with Joanna.”

“Jo,” Jaime said fondly.

“What?” Tyrion replied, confused.

“She doesn’t like to be called Joanna, she says that only her…her mom calls her that when she’s in trouble. She prefers Jo.”

“Jo, then.” Tyrion said warmly. “Enjoy your time with Jo. And Jaime? I hope I can meet my niece soon.”

Jaime smiled. “I hope so too.”

***

  
By the time Jaime arrived at Brienne’s apartment, he was running five minutes late. The subway had collapsed again, and Jaime had to break into a run as soon as he left the station to avoid being even more unpunctual.

He knocked on the door, sweating profusely now. Jaime watched Brienne’s shadow under the door, waiting as she opened it tentatively at first, but upon seeing his red, sweaty face, flinging it wide open.

“Gods Jaime, are you alright? Do you need help?” she asked with concern, as she fixed her gentle blue eyes on him.

Jaime breathed heavily, trying to control his pants. “I’m fine…just…the subway…late…had to…run.”

He watched as Brienne brought a hand to her mouth, visibly trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh. Well, subway’s often late. Happens to me a lot too.” She gestured inside. “Come in. Please.”

Jaime stepped in the apartment with a cautious stance, remembering everything that happened the last time he was in here. Undoubtedly, Brienne had the same thought because it seemed to him that she also looked out of sorts and uncomfortable.

 _Fuck, this was a shitty idea_ , he thought somberly to himself.

“Where’s Jo?” Jaime asked, wanting to have some sort of conversation starter between them.

Brienne looked at him, surprised at hearing him address her. “She’s getting ready. She said she has a surprise for both of us, and she’s ‘fine-tuning’ the details.” Brienne smiled fondly, shaking her head. “That’s Jo.”

Jaime looked at Brienne with an unwavering stare. “I wouldn’t know.”

Brienne looked as if she’d been slapped. She met Jaime’s stare, trying hard not to flinch. “Jaime, look. I know there’s a lot that has to be said between us, a lot of things we have to talk about, but I don’t think…”

“Hi!” Jo said excitedly, giving Jaime a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” She sniffed and made a face, pulling back from him. “Why are you all sweaty?”

Jaime could have died from happiness when his daughter embraced him, but now he felt his face turning red with embarrassment. “Uh, I ran all the way here from the subway station. Train was delayed, and I didn’t want to be late for dinner.”

“Oh,” Jo said smiling. “You didn’t have to worry. Pizza guy isn’t here yet.”

Jaime looked confused. “Pizza guy?”

Jo laughed. “Yeah! We always have pizza on Saturdays.” She looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not like…vegan or lactose-intolerant or anything, right?”

Jaime would have laughed at his daughter’s question, if not for the fact that it just made him think of everything his own daughter didn’t know about him; or him about her, for that matter.

He suddenly turned to Brienne and saw her watching them, a look on her face that he couldn’t quite read. She looked pleased to have her daughter enthusiastic about seeing him, but there was also a weariness there, an almost sort of caution in her eyes.

Like she believed he could disappear again at any second.

Jaime _wanted_ to be angry at her mistrust, but could he really blame her? He had been itching to lay the blunt of everything on Brienne, hate her for disappearing with his child, for allowing Hyle _fucking_ Hunt to stand in Jaime’s place. But he had to admit to himself that she was as innocent as he was, probably even more. He should have seen through Cersei, he should have known that Brienne would never run out on him, that she would never just leave, forgetting everything they were to each other.

The doorbell rang, breaking his reverie. “I’ll get it!” Jo hollered before Brienne could move. He heard his daughter squeal excitedly, before turning to her mother.

“Mom! It’s Rickon! I don’t…oh gods!” she exclaimed, slapping a hand to her forehead. “I totally forgot! Mom, I’m supposed to go to the movies with Rick today!”

Brienne gave Jo a stern look, saying, “Joanna, you knew very well that Jai…your dad was coming over for dinner. In fact, this was _your_ idea. You just have to tell Rick that you have a prior commitment and that you can’t go.”

Jo pouted, and at that moment, Jaime froze seeing how much his daughter looked like him, his shock gradually replaced by a glowing sense of pride and wonder.

“But mom!” Jo wailed. “This show is like, sold out! There’s no tickets left. We _can’t_ go another day!”

As Brienne told her daughter that maybe next time she would learn not to make plans with more than one person, Jo turned her green eyes to Jaime. “You don’t mind, do you…dad?” she asked him, with a hopeful look on her face.

 _Oh, fuck_. She called him 'Dad.' He would have said yes to being eaten alive by the direwolves of old just to hear his daughter call him that again.

“Jo…” Brienne said softly, a clear warning in her tone. Jaime held up a hand, wanting to break the argument.

“It’s fine, really, I don’t mind. Let her go to the movies. We can do dinner some other time,” he said smiling at Jo.

“No! You don’t have to leave. You can stay and have dinner with mom! The pizza’s already ordered. Right mom? Jo said, turning to Brienne.

She seemed unable to speak, and Jaime could clearly see this wasn’t something she wanted. “Jo, it’s fine,” he told his daughter. “I’ll go. We can have dinner some other time.”

Jo looked at her mother helplessly, her green eyes pleading. “Mom?”

Brienne looked from Jo to Jaime, and he could see she was fighting with herself to make a decision. Before Jaime could speak, she surprised him by saying that yes, it didn’t make sense for Jaime to go. Would he stay for dinner?

He gave her a slow nod, and Brienne nodded back. Jo squealed excitedly, ”That’s so great! You guys probably have lots to talk about.” She grabbed her bag and her keys, turning to Jaime and giving him another hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, as Jaime felt his throat tightening, not daring to say anything that might spoil this glorious moment with her.

Jo gave Brienne a hurried kiss on the cheek before stepping though the door and joining Rickon Stark, who had been shyly waiting outside. Giving them a final wave, she left in a flurry of excited chatter and a toss of her blonde hair.

Alone, Jaime and Brienne looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally, Jaime found his voice.

“Look, if this is not ok, I’ll just leave. It’s fine…”

Brienne looked at him with a surprised expression. “No Jaime, it’s fine. You don’t have to leave. It’s just…” she trailed off for a moment. “It’s just that I can’t help thinking that Jo planned this.”

Jaime looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?’”

Brienne sighed deeply. “Jo knows that things between you and me are not…that we’re not talking. I think she planned this as a way for us to have a conversation with each other and say what we have to say.” She looked at him warily before speaking again, struggling with her words. "I know that you're not...I mean...don't let her get away with things, ok? Jo's a teenager, she'll try to manipulate you to do what she wants. They all do that." Brienne tried a smile. "Jo's not really the manipulative kind, but you still have to set some boundaries..."

Jaime cut her off. "Brienne, I've just met my daughter. She called me 'dad' for the first time. If you don't mind, let me get to know her first before you tell me about 'setting boundaries'."

Brienne looked ashamed, replying in barely a murmur. "I know, Jaime. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."

Jaime was silent, musing over Brienne’s words. He couldn’t help being proud of his daughter, coming up with a plan that would force her parents to address everything that had happened in the last few weeks. But he was afraid that he would fuck things up with Brienne even more, especially where the topic of Hyle Hunt was concerned.

Brienne gave him a small smile, gesturing towards the sofa. “We might as well talk while we wait for dinner.”

Jaime sat down on the soft cushion, making sure to leave enough space between them. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that being near Brienne was slowly waking something up inside him, a fire that he believed was long dead.

“So…” Brienne started tentatively. “Jo said she had fun with you at the zoo.” She looked at him with a fond expression. “I haven’t been there in years.”

“Yeah, she…uh…she seemed to like it. I was afraid she would find it childish or stupid. But…we had a nice time.” Jaime looked at Brienne curiously. “She told me about a lion you used to be particularly fond of. A maimed lion?”

Brienne’s face shone with recognition. “Oh gods, yes! I remember him!” Her excitement gave way to a certain sadness. “I always thought he looked so desolate, so…broken. It always seemed like he was just…I don’t know…waiting to die.” She looked at him in the eye. “I kept wishing someone would help him, maybe give him some love, some compassion.”

Jaime didn’t know what to say, knowing well enough she may have been speaking of the lion but she was also talking about him. He refused to show any emotion in front of her, despite every cell in his body screaming at him to take her in his arms and hold her. He abruptly decided confrontation was the best remedy to stifle the excruciating longing in his heart.

“Jo told me something else too,” he said as Brienne looked at him with a curious smile. “She spoke about an _Uncle Hyle_ , said that he was there when she was born.” He took a cruel sort of pleasure in watching her eyes flood with panic, face turning crimson red. “That wouldn’t be _Hyle Hunt_ , would it?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, taunting her, watching her shift uncomfortably under his stare. “When Jo said that, I asked myself: Why the fuck would Hyle Hunt be at my daughter’s birth? A daughter I didn’t know I had, who was kept from me? Why does she call him ‘Uncle Hyle?’” He looked at her with a mocking smirk. “I would l _ove_ to know.”

Brienne was silent for a moment, folding and unfolding her hands nervously in her lap. Finally, she spoke in a low voice.

“Jaime, the reason he came to be there…it’s a long story.” She sighed and looked nervously at his face. “Hyle came to Tarth looking for me, and he was shocked when he realized I was pregnant and alone. Hyle was the only person…” Brienne’s voice trailed off at the sound of the doorbell.

“Fuck, it’s the pizza. I’ll be right back.” She lifted herself off the couch, with a backward glance at Jaime. He heard the voice of the deliveryman and Brienne’s as she paid him, and brought the food inside. He stood as she made her way back to the living room.

“Pizza’s in the kitchen. Do you want something to drink, or…?”

“Were you fucking him?” Jaime asked harshly.

Brienne’s eyes were wide with disbelief and confusion. “ _What_?”

Jaime almost faltered, but his anger made him plow ahead with the accusation, boring his emerald eyes into her startled blue ones. “Did.You.Fuck.Him?”

He could see a mix of emotions on Brienne’s face as she clearly fought for control. Finally, she locked her eyes with his in an unwavering stare.

“ _Fuck_ _you! "_ she spat at him.

Brienne turned away, but he grabbed her by the arm. “No, you don’t get to leave! I deserve…”

“You _deserve_?” she snarled, shaking free of his grasp. “You _deserve_ to be thrown out of my fucking house right now!”

Pushing down the feeling of shame inside him, Jaime focused on his growing rage and jealousy. “I _deserve_ the truth from you! Isn’t it enough that you kept my daughter’s existence a secret? Now I have to deal with the fact that you replaced me with _Hyle Hunt_?” He looked at her, his green eyes furious. “Was this your plan from the start? To dump me, so you could hook up with Hyle? Were you fucking him even when we were together? How many times did you suck his cock while?...”

The next thing Jaime knew, he was being knocked back onto the couch by the force of Brienne’s hand, as she unceremoniously slapped him hard across the face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne do...have...engage in...  
> Ok, just read it ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was long af, waaaay longer than I thought it was going to be, which can only mean that I suck at summarizing narratives, lol.  
> Hopefully, it won't seem like it's dragging on and on.  
> However, I do have to say that a lot of the conversations here needed to happen, and they could only happen in this chapter. So, maybe long-ass was necessary :)
> 
> Here be Chapter 7!
> 
> ETA: THERE'S SMUT FAN ART AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER DONE BY THE VERY TALENTED ELENATRIA. HER TUMBLR HERE: http://elenatria.tumblr.com/  
> IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, FEEL FREE TO SCROLL DOWN.

_I wish I were young again, for him and for me,_

_I wish I were soft and open and free for him._

_I wish I could show him the depths of my soul._

_I wish I were free for him and for me._

_I wish I were free to love him like he's never been loved._

Anonymous, written in a notebook found in a Delray Beach tearoom.

***/*/*/***

 

The slap was loud enough to make her cringe.

Brienne watched in horror as Jaime fell towards the couch, a quick arm bracing on top prevented him from crashing on it. Instinct had her stepping forward before remembering the cruelty of his words, and this was enough for her hand to curl into a fist, her blue eyes glowering at Jaime as if to render him into ashes.

“Get out of my house.” The veins in Brienne’s neck stood out thick and blue as she spoke through gritted teeth. _“Now.”_

Jaime straightened up. He placed a hand on his reddened cheek and grimaced. But the look he gave her was one of determination.

“No.”

“Leave!” she shouted.

“Why?” He was clearly in pain and struggling to remain upright. Brienne hated herself for hitting him harder than she intended. But what made everything worse, were the memories that came flooding back from a night long ago, when she witnessed Cersei hurting him in the exact manner.  

“You want me to leave so you can truly say that I left you?” Jaime demanded.

“I want you to leave because I refuse to discuss anything more with you when you’re acting like this.”

As she turned her back, she felt Jaime’s hand reaching for her. He was fast, grabbing her, turning her around and pressing her to his chest. Brienne whined and growled, struggling to get free. It was killing her to have him close like this after so long, and what little remained of her defenses were beginning to whither away. But Brienne’s will and pride were steel, and with a grunt she managed to turn away from Jaime, her back to his chest while he held on to her. Fueled by anger, Brienne slammed the heel of her foot on Jaime’s toe, and she almost took pleasure in hearing him shout out in pain. She took advantage of his momentary distraction and walked towards the bedroom, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them.

But Jaime recovered faster, walking in large strides to catch up to her. As he turned her around, she once again found herself pushing against him to get out of his grip. They both shouted as their scuffle led them to crash against her bedroom door, the force of their combined weights propelling them to topple on the bed, which was in close vicinity.

Brienne shouted in anger and frustration as her hair got in her eyes, giving Jaime the upper hand, cursing at him as he yanked her arms over her head and his legs locked around her knees. His breath was hot and frantic, hitting her lips, almost like a kiss. Just almost but…

_She remembered everything as if it was only yesterday._

_Their first kiss._

She started to cry then, for who they used to be, for what was lost and too broken now to even make sense.

“ _Brienne_.” The pleading note in Jaime’s voice startled her, but she was so deep in her despondency that she thought it only an illusion.

“Gods, _please_. Not like this, Brienne.”

His head fell forward, his nose resting against her temple. His whispers filled her ear with, “Not like this. Don’t do this.”

“ _We can’t,”_ she wailed. “Don't you see that, Jaime?”

She shook her head, getting her hair out of her eyes finally. Jaime was leaning away from her, but still kept her arms and legs pinned.

There it was again. _The anger._

She wanted to shrink away from him.

 _She wanted to kiss him_.

“Fuck you, Brienne,” Jaime growled hatefully. _Fuck you for always giving up_.”

“No! _Fuck you Jaime!_ You don’t know how many times I willed myself to die—“

“You never believed in me! In us! Gods damn you, Brienne, you’re the biggest idiot alive to not see what we can still have if you only---”

Jaime’s sentence came to a sudden halt when Brienne suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and forcefully smashed her mouth on his.

 _Gods_.

It was like breathing, after being deprived of air for _years_.

His shock lasted only for a moment. Jaime’s body flattened her to the mattress, resting on her heavily so she was reduced to panting against his mouth. Her arms, suddenly free, were holding him, grabbing at his hair, scratching his back covered in cloth, hating the barrier between them because she wanted his skin, she wanted _him._  With every surface of Jaime she touched, her fingertips tingled with recognition, while he groaned, grabbing her chin and forcing her mouth open so he could thrust his tongue inside. She tried to yank her head away, _it was too much_ , but Jaime’s palms locked her firmly in place.

Having Jaime again, like this, _oh, like this_ , was screwing with her mind. Brienne instinctively raised her hips and was met only by his arousal. Whatever control she had was gone, feeling him hard and so familiar against her as she felt her cunt swell in response, juices immediately pooling in her underwear. In the back of her mind, the thought of Jo coming home and hearing them fucking was enough to make her falter, even though Brienne knew that her daughter wouldn’t be home for at least a couple of hours.

How would things stand between her and Jaime if they had sex like this?

At the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care about what would happen later. Brienne had never felt this intensity, this maddening, burning desire. Not with the stranger she fucked in a hotel room during a conference years ago. Nor with that other man, the one who had lived between her legs for months, that doomed and nonsensical relationship. The harder Jaime kissed her and crushed her body under his, the faster those other faces and bodies were obliterated from her memory, their touches and kisses becoming insignificant.

This.

_This._

Jaime tore his mouth away and stared down at her, his green eyes burning. Brienne was about to demand why he was looking at her that way, when suddenly Jaime flipped her onto her stomach. He yanked her to her knees by the back of her dress, drawing a pitched gasp from her lips as he nudged her legs open.

“ _Wider_ ,” he snarled, spreading her legs some more before she could do as he asked. Then he was letting her feel it, his erection poking at the spread lips of her cunt, its warmth searing through the fabric of her skirt and panties.

_Oh, gods._

Her mind was screaming.

Yes, yes, _yes_ …

She tried adjusting to a more comfortable position, managed to pull at his hair before he abruptly guided her head to the pillow. Dizzy with want and her inability to predict what would happen next, she could only moan weakly, between her hungry gulps for air. Jaime rubbed his cock against her again, the cloth of his pants rough against her bare thighs.

Panting loudly, she heard and felt Jaime tearing at her dress from behind. Her protest melted into another earthy moan as his hands cupped her bared breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly. She started to shake. A familiar ache, a longing, overwhelmed every part of her body. Tears welled in her eyes and began to slide down as she realized the depth of her need for this man, a need that fifteen years apart hadn’t managed to quench. She buried her face in the pillow; muffling her whimpers as he continued to torment her nipples as he raised her dress.

“Fifteen years,” he hissed in her ear. “ _Fifteen years, Brienne._ ”

He yanked at the damp panel of her underwear until it gave way with a snap, the cool air washing over the wetness between her legs. She tried to turn around, wanting to look at Jaime, needing to see him as he fucked her.

His fingers were back in her hair. “ _No_ ,” he ordered, and her nipples immediately tightened, moisture slid down her thighs. She nodded, and Jaime slowly pulled his hands free from her hair.

A belt was unbuckled, a zipper lowered, as hard fingers plunged inside her. Brienne cried out, her squirming hips refusing to escape the rapture she was feeling, when Jaime pulled at her hair again, tilting her neck so her lips fell open. Fingers glistening with _her_ entered her mouth.

 _Fuck pride. Fuck everything_. If this was all she was going to have of Jaime after all these years, then this was what she wanted. She would never apologize for wanting him, _for_ _loving him_ , despite every obstacle threatening to separate them again.

He pulled his fingers out. Replaced them with his mouth, his tongue, giving her a hard, bruising kiss before nudging her head once again towards the pillow.  Brienne managed to move her neck just as Jaime shoved his cock inside, grunting in tandem to her loud moans.

He fucked her hard, swinging his hips back and pushing inside, giving no heed to her comfort, taking her with a roughness she had never known from him. Brienne managed to slip a finger under her body to desperately rub at her clit. Jaime followed the trail of her hand with his eyes, seeing what she was doing.

He abruptly stopped moving.

“No!” Brienne screamed.

Jaime tilted her head to the side, his voice tight. “ **I** fuck you. **I** make you come. **You** don’t do anything. _Do you understand me?”_

She nodded again, the tilted angle of her head making it difficult to speak.

“Good,” he said firmly, his voice slightly shaking.

 _“Jaime.”_ She knew she was begging, and she hated herself for it.

He resumed the delicious torture on her breasts, pinching and tugging at her nipples as his cock slammed inside her in quick, hard thrusts.

_“Brienne.”_

Oh, gods. How could something so rough, something almost brutal feel so right, the most _perfect_ feeling in the world? Brienne forced herself to rise on all fours, hands gripping the headboard. He released her hair, placing his other hand on her hips. Brienne reached one long arm behind her to rest her hand on Jaime’s waist, wanting to feel his hot skin slick under her palm. The headboard banged against the wall, the chorus to the wet slaps of their flesh.

Brienne thrust back harder, retaliating. Through the violence of their union, a hand would cup her breast with almost-tenderness, lips would brush her temple.  Whispers of _fuck you, damn you, want_ _you, need you_ filled her ear that in turn fed wild dreams into her mind. She shouldn’t allow herself to imagine things that would never be, but her moans were a contradiction; his name leaving her lips, a vow in response to each thrust.

Screams of raw pleasure echoed in the apartment as they found their release at the same time. Brienne’s nails were cracked from clinging to the headboard but she rode it out, flying through the waves until she slumped down on the bed. Jaime bit her shoulder, spilling inside her with the warm gush of his come. Brienne’s eyes widened in shock.

She had _never_ felt that. Not with him, nor with any other man.

Brienne was blinking rapidly,  trying to absorb the possible repercussions of what they had done, when Jaime suddenly flipped her onto her back. His eyes were black and unfathomable pools, and as she squinted up at him, she saw tracks of what seemed to be tears now drying on his cheeks.

She bit her quivering lip, the high of her release being quick to fade and settling in its place, were a myriad of sensations: a raw tenderness to her scalp from when he had held on tightly to her hair. Her mouth was swollen, her nipples burned, and she felt a lingering soreness between her legs.

Brienne began to cry, tears falling not from the repercussions of the battle that had taken place between them, but from the fear and anticipation of what would happen now.

 _Was there even a way to make this right_ ?

There was only one way to know. Determined in her sudden conviction, Brienne looked up at Jaime with watery eyes, praying to the Seven that she wasn’t mistaken; tentatively, she opened her arms to him. “ _Jaime_ ,” she whispered, hoping with all her heart that he could find his way back to her.

He looked at her, uncertainty framing his beautiful face before letting out a sound between a groan and a sob as he fell into her embrace. Tears hit her neck, her own falling on his shoulder, as they clung to each other, their sweaty, sticky bodies shaking from the floodgates that were suddenly burst open with so much that was yet unsaid.

“Brienne.” Jaime said, raising his head, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She nodded and cupped his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry for what I said,” he said, bowing his head and looking ashamed. “I had no right, _no right_ , to talk to you the way I did. I don’t deserve to even…”

She interrupted him with a kiss. “Shhh… it’s alright. _I know, Jaime_ ,” she whispered.

He gathered her in his arms, kissing her gently, tenderly now.

 _Again_.

 _And again_.

He raised his head and she saw that his tears matched her own. She pulled him down to her again, opening her lips to swallow his anger, his pain, and his misery.

_Because this gut-wrenching, miserable pain was hers, as much as it was his._

 

***

 

Jaime heard a loud ‘ping’ from far away, and felt Brienne moving as she left the bed. He pretended to be asleep, keeping his breath steady against her nape as she moved carefully as not to wake him. One of his legs rested between hers, the fingers of his hand spreading over her breast. She gently slipped free from his grasp, sitting up slowly and reaching for her phone.

There was no moon tonight, but the light from the street and the weak glow from the few stars in the sky were enough to see Brienne moving through the dark before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. He heard the swoosh of water.

By the time she came back, Jaime was sitting up and had turned on the lamp on the nightstand. He could imagine smiling at Brienne’s surprised gasp if they had been a normal couple: him waking up to leer appreciatively at his wife’s nude body, while she blushed furiously in response. But they were adrift, despite having found each other again.

And she was not his wife.

Sex with Brienne had completely drained him, physically and emotionally. He was still furious over the years they had lost, at her not trying harder to find him, at himself. At Cersei. But being with her had given some much-needed calm to his soul. For years he had been so angry at her, almost hating her for what her sudden disappearance had done to him.

 To them.

He remembered almost collapsing in her arms, kissing her, and then a blackness that was. . .bliss. Or as close to bliss as he could manage right now. His stomach fluttered in anxiety as he wondered how long, or how brief, this was going to be, how much the sudden overwhelming happiness of having her next to him, would last.

“Uh…Jo’s not coming home. She’s staying over at the Starks’ tonight.” Brienne’s hands quickly rose up in embarrassment to cover her breasts, as she felt Jaime watching her, the pink in her cheeks deepening as the seconds went by, provoking a soft, small smile from him. After all this time, after the way he had fucked her, she could still blush.

“Brienne.” Her name was a plea from his lips. “Let me see you.”

He managed to see her beautiful eyes in the soft glow of the room, and recognized wariness there, but also a profound sadness too.

Fifteen years. _Fifteen fucking years._

They looked at each other in silence. As Jaime was about to tell her to just come back to bed and let him hold her, Brienne lowered her hands from her breasts and stepped right into the light. She approached him slowly until Jaime had to crane his neck up, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to be closer and see more of her.

He reached for her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples. Brienne’s face and neck were red, her teeth clamping hard on her swollen lower lip. He could feel the shudder of her response, and his cock stirred.

_Just like before._

His eyes lowered instinctively to her stomach, noticing that the flesh there was a bit softer, looser. Jaime’s eyes rested on the scar below her navel that was paler than the rest of her, almost a scrawl if not for the raised skin. His throat was in pain as betrayal, hurt, anger, sadness—rolled into him in waves, screaming to be let out.

But suddenly, having Brienne here, his palms still warm from having just touched her, his skin smelling of her, Jaime was surprised to find that the urge to lash out just didn't seem to be there anymore. Exhausted from the rollercoaster of the last few days, he rested his forehead on her belly as he thumbed her scar, both fascinated yet saddened still, before kissing it.

His lips went back and forth across the scar until his arms wrapped around her waist. He sank against her, closing his eyes as the warm flutter of her fingers coasted over his hair before settling firmly, brushing and caressing.

“Tell me everything I missed.” He finished nuzzling her scar and looked up at her.

He pulled her towards him until she had to straddle his hips. Jaime shifted back in the bed so they could be more comfortable. He kept his arms around her and he was glad that she continued touching him, gently stroking his face.

“It wasn’t. . .everything was normal. But her heart rate began to drop. That’s why they had to do an emergency C-section.” The distress on Brienne’s face caused her to pale and for some of the light to leave her brilliant sapphire eyes. “I had the doctor swear to keep her safe, to do everything he could for her, no matter what. Then, I was wheeled into the room one minute, and in the next she was there.” Her eyes softened and a smile touched her lips, and Jaime couldn’t help thinking that she looked almost beautiful.

He pulled her head down to press his lips on hers. After a while, Brienne pulled away.

“My baby, Jaime. With your eyes.” Her voice was shaking as she vividly recalled the day of Joanna’s birth, so terrifying but yet, the best day of her life.

She brushed his hair back. “She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and as soon as I saw her face, I knew I had to name her Joanna.”

Jaime swallowed, feeling a pricking behind his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could almost be there in that room, seeing Brienne sobbing happily as Joanna announced herself to the world with roaring, powerful screams.

“Having just lost my dad. . .and then losing you. . .those months were the hardest of my life until Joanna was born. Jaime, I never stopped hoping that you’d come back for us. But that day, holding our daughter for the first time, I was given a reason to live again. And yes, you’re probably right that maybe in the end… I gave up on you, on us. But see, with Jo, I finally had proof that what we had was real. That at least a part of it had been true.”

Jaime’s eyes were bright as he cupped her face, whispering, “It was real, Brienne. I _swear_ to you that it was real.”

She broke then, her face made uglier by her crying. Jaime shook his head and kissed her in an attempt to soothe, to ask for her forgiveness, for being so blind and so stupid. But as they kissed, she was the one to whisper, “ _I’m so sorry, Jaime_.”

He kissed her sweaty temple gently before saying. “I’m sorry too. We both hurt each other...” Jaime’s voice trailed off as he held her, trying not to think about all the time that had been stolen from them.

“I’m still so angry, Brienne,” he confessed softly, ashamed of not being able to entirely let go of his resentment.

She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes gentle. “Who are you angry with? Tell me, don’t be afraid.”

Jaime hesitated before taking a deep breath, not able to look at her. “You, me, _Cersei_ …Hyle.”

Brienne kissed his cheek. “Why Hyle? He didn’t take anything away from us. He’s been nothing but a wonderful friend and he’s so good with Jo.”

“I know that,” he said sadly. “But I can’t help thinking that he got what was mine. He saw you pregnant; he was there when my daughter said her first words, when she took her first steps, saw her go to school for the first time.” Jaime’s voice shook with emotion. “I missed it all, Brienne. Hyle had everything that was supposed to be mine!”

He cried then, for everything that was forever lost to them. Brienne held him tightly in her arms, her own tears of regret and longing lodged in her throat, for all those years they had been apart.

Their foreheads rested on each other’s. Her breath was wet and shuddering and he felt himself being split into pieces. But she was here, and they were together. This wasn’t a dream.

Jaime cupped Brienne’s cheek again, tilting her face slightly with his other hand so he could kiss her lips, gently at first, his kisses growing bolder and more demanding. His cock rearing between her spread thighs made her body warm and he felt the rush of her blush, his hand cupping her breast.

He squeezed to draw a moan from her and Brienne’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Then she was leaning toward him again, her breath harsh rasps on his face as he fondled her breasts.

“They’re bigger,” he said, with a hint of awe and wonder in his voice. She whined and groaned as he pulled on the swollen tips, drawing sharp cries from her. Brienne’s legs tightened around his waist, her nails scored his shoulders but she didn’t tell him to stop. Rather, she peppered his face with kisses before he turned his head and their lips fused together.

Suddenly, Brienne rose on her knees, putting her breasts at the level of his mouth. He smiled, surprised but delighted with her boldness. Eagerly, he wrapped his lips around a tight, red nipple.

Fuck, _the taste of_ _her._ How had he lived all these years without her silky skin? The scent of her arousal was head-spinning musk, and he pulled away from her nipple long enough to ask, “How long did you breastfeed?”

Brienne clutched at his head, blushing. “I—I don’t know. About a year maybe? Why are you asking me this?” she said, embarrassed.

He shot her a look. “Brienne, I meant it when I said I wanted to know everything.

He took her nipple in his mouth again. “Tell me.”

Brienne moaned softly. “I…I was lucky. I got to breastfeed Jo for as long as she needed.”

Jaime imagined her breasts fuller than they were now, and her stomach round and smooth like the moon, heavy with their child.

In college, he had spent close to a year cataloging every touch and kiss that undid her. He smiled to himself just before opening his mouth and taking an entire breast inside. _Yes_. She was fuller now.

Brienne shrieked, rubbing her cunt frantically against his thigh, coming quick and hard. As the rough motions of her body softened, he turned to lay her on her back, when she suddenly shook her head.

“Jaime, I want—” She didn’t finish her sentence, pushing him onto his back, throwing herself between his legs and wrapped her lips around his cock. Jaime shouted, feeling himself explode inside her mouth as soon as she claimed him. She sucked him harder, the motions of her mouth dragging more of his come to flood her throat. Just then, her eyes locked on his, silently letting him know that in their time apart, she had learned a thing or two.

_Seven above._

Gold blanketed his starry gaze. He felt rather than saw Brienne slowly release his cock. When he heard the shuffle, felt the shift of her body indicating she was leaving, his hand was quick to clamp around her wrist.

“No. Please. Don’t leave.”

Her lips were wet with him. Blushing furiously, she stammered, “B-But, Jaime, I should—at least I should—”

He pulled her down beside him and embraced her with his arms and legs. His kisses were urgent around her face, her shoulder.

“What happened when you found out you were pregnant? How did your dad die? When did Jo start liking photography?”

She was looking at him silently, pondering all his questions. Jaime took a deep breath and asked:

“How many times did you curse me or want to hurt me because you thought I didn’t want you?”

Her fingers feathered his jaw before she suddenly turned away. Jaime stared helplessly at the constellation of freckles on her back, but he held his tongue, watching as her shoulders rose and fell with the deep breaths she was taking.

“J-Jaime, I-I know you want to know everything,” she began. “I understand. It’s your right and I—I want to tell you. But. . .every time I remember. . .all I can think about is that you weren’t there with me _”_

Her entire body began to shake. Jaime pulled her to his chest and she turned, burying her face against his neck. Brienne started to speak then, and his heart broke with every confession pouring out of her between violent hiccups.

Selwyn had been ill for a long time and he never told her until it was too late. She went to Tarth so she could hide away, putting a sea between them to protect herself from the unbearable pain of his rejection. He kissed her when she told him about being late and taking a pregnancy test, and that on the day they were supposed to see each other, before he was sent to Skagos, she was going to tell him about the baby. Jaime could only imagine the horror and confusion that she must have gone through when she was unable to find him, being fooled by Cersei’s lies. His wench had always been strong but she was also too young and too innocent to understand that she was a mere pawn in Cersei’s cruel game. A fist squeezed his heart, tightening as he realized that more than his absence: Brienne had gone through everything alone.

She continued softly, “I got this nice box, faux blue leather and I put the stick there. I was going to give it to you the next morning, when we woke up,” she said, looking away.

 _The gods damn you to the Seven Hell_ s, _Cersei_.

 “I didn’t know what to do, Jaime. I—I tried for the last time.” She was calmer now but her eyes were still bright with tears. “I was three months along and I got in touch with Cersei. I told her about the baby, begged her to call you first since. . .because of what she told me. About how you felt about me. And I didn’t know how else to contact you. I told her that maybe if you came to Tarth, if you felt Jo moving. . .”

“ _Gods Brienne,_ I’m so sorry. ” He kissed her forehead, hating that all he could do was apologize.

_Cersei knew._

He wanted to punch something, _his sister_. Instead, he laid his palm on Brienne’s stomach, allowing himself to imagine their lives if things had gone right. He would have felt the first flutters of his daughter moving in Brienne, he would have gone with her to the doctor, and listened to her first heartbeat.

“It was here.” Brienne’s soft voice brought him back. Then she was moving his hand, moving it a little off to the center, just next to her navel. “This is where I first felt Jo. She was a tiny lion cub even then. Ferocious. Strong.” Despite her tears, she smiled at him. “Remember. . .back in college? When we would sleep and you had this weird thing about tapping me on the shoulder just before I fell asleep? Jo would kick and do all these somersaults just as I was falling asleep. Jaime, I was miserable, but when she did that. . .I thought of you and somehow, just with that, I was happy. It became my favorite time of the day. It felt like you were there with us.”

As her voice trailed off, their eyes fell on his fingers gently caressing her stomach, where Joanna first made herself felt. Once again, Jaime traced the scar there.

“Why was Hyle with you?”

Brienne bit her lip. “Jaime, please. Let’s not fight, I don’t…

Jaime held up a hand. “I want to know, Brienne.”

She chewed nervously on her lip. “Don’t get mad, okay?” As he frowned silently at her, Brienne rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“You have to understand that even when we hate what happened, there is no undoing it. I know it’s not easy to move on from this, but we have to try. We have to accept some things about the past, both of us do” As he frowned at her, Brienne continued sternly, “It’s not like you don’t have your own history, Jaime. Do you honestly expect me to believe you’ve been living chastely for fifteen fucking years?”

He flushed and muttered, “Come on, Brienne.”

She glared at him. “You want the truth? I’m not okay with you fucking someone else, or a lot of ‘someones.’ But we are where we are right now because of your sister. I went to Tarth thinking the worst of you, as you did with me. We never thought we would see each other again. Do you mean to tell me you never tried to move on? Because I did. I tried so hard but. . .”

“But?” he prompted.

She suddenly reddened and said hastily, “My point is, we have to learn to accept things that happened, no matter how hard it is or how angry it still makes us.”

“Why do I have a feeling that this ‘accepting the past’ speech, is to soften me up before punching me in the gut?” he retorted.

Brienne huffed, and lay on her back. “Hyle is my best friend, Jaime. I know you’ve never liked each other, but he’s done so much for me and specially for Jo.”

Getting a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, he asked the question that had been burning in his throat:

“Did you fuck Hyle?”

Brienne’s eyes turned icy blue with anger. “Why the _hells_ are you asking me this again?

Jaime shut his eyes and breathed quietly, counting to ten. “Did you, Brienne? Am I the beneficiary of Hyle’s Advanced Oral Sex class? You haven’t answered the question.”

She couldn’t contain her anger and the hurt any longer. “Oh, fuck you! You want an answer? Fine, here’s your answer, even though you don’t deserve one: I have no feelings for Hyle. I never _fucked_ Hyle, nothing will _ever_ happen with Hyle. He is a friend, my best friend. That’s all, Jaime. And if you still can’t get that through your stupid head, then you’re nothing but an arrogant, judgmental asshole. Besides,” she continued angrily. “If you’re that interested in how I acquired my instruction in oral sex, maybe you can tell me who instructed you in The Importance of Endurance workshop. I think I should send her a check!”

Jaime flustered, shut his eyes and breathed quietly, counting to ten. “I remember you always liked it hard and fast,” he muttered.

“Because that was all _you_ ever taught me.” Brienne snapped back.

Jaime let out a loud sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, you’re right. About the past. Everything. Gods, I sound like such an idiot right now. I’m so sorry, Brienne. For offending you, for implying…I’m such a worthless jerk,” he finished, hanging his head in shame.

Brienne looked at him, her gaze softening. “You are no such thing, Jaime. And I’m sorry too.” She cuddled up to him, putting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m not asking you to be friends with Hyle, but. . .if you could just see what he did for me. For Jo. He helped me, and he was there at a time when I was lost and desperate and scared.” He searched her eyes as she spoke. They were clear and calm, like an ocean from a vision. “I—I can’t not have him in my life, Jaime. He’s important to me, and he’s important to Jo.”

Jaime sighed, dreading to ask any more questions that involved Hyle Hunt. “How did he know you were pregnant? How did he know you were in Tarth?”

Brienne’s expression was thoughtful as she remembered. “I think it was a little before I first felt Joanna,” she said, her fingers trailing up his chest, then down, then back again. It was a maddening rhythm that his cock really seemed to like. “Or was it after? I don’t remember exactly. What I _do_ remember is getting ready for a bath because it was so fucking hot. I was already in the water when the doorbell rang. Non-stop. I was ready to curse, thinking it was the mailman, but instead it was Hyle at the door.” She chuckled. “You should have seen his face when he saw me pregnant. I was a fucking leviathan at just five months.”

Jaime felt himself smile. He believed her. After all, Joanna was tall so she probably hadn’t been a small baby. He put a hand on her hip. “I would have loved to see you huge like that.”

“You should be careful what you wish for, Lannister. I have to admit, that I was no angel, reveling in the joy of maternity. Despite everything that I thought had happened between us, I loved that our baby was growing inside me. But I hated being pregnant! I was always hot, nothing fit. I had to wear a _bra_. And I had to start making lists because I was so forgetful all the time. So when Hyle was suddenly there, I was so happy. Of course, I wanted to kill him for fainting on me.”

Jaime smirked, thinking that Hyle Hunt, in his opinion, had always been a weak-ass cunt. “Stupid fuck. He fainted?”

She nodded, laughing softly. “He made a stop on Tarth when he was on his way home to his dad’s, and thought that maybe I was there, hiding. Apparently, he heard about my Dad and he knew that I had left school. I will never forget the look on his face, I swear. His eyes crossed and then… he fainted! I couldn’t bend over to help him, so in the end I just ended up nudging at him with my foot.” She grinned, shaking her head. “Hyle wanted to be helpful, but he actually started driving me crazy! He wouldn’t even let me touch decaf because it had more chemicals than real coffee. He made me eat organic shit, and would ask the doctor embarrassing questions like the best brand of suppositories. I wanted to kill him! He fussed over me like a septa!” Her voice took a tender, affectionate turn. “He was annoying as fuck, but he saved us, Jaime; me and Jo. His generosity knew no bounds. He offered me a place to stay, with him and his dad. So, a little over a month after I gave birth, I moved in with them.”

She looked thoughtful before continuing her story. “The reason Hyle came to be there was because when I went into labor, he was the only person I thought to call, the only one who knew about…everything.” Brienne took a deep breath. “So, he took me to the hospital, and Jaime I was so scared when they told me they had to do a C-section, that her heart beat was…Anyway, he stayed with me because I asked him to, and when I woke up from surgery, he was still there. Taking care of me and Jo.”

Jaime caressed her cheek gently, reverently. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with you. I would have been, if I had known.”

She smiled. “I know.”

Another question came to his mind. “You moved from Tarth?” He couldn’t remember where Hyle was from, but Jaime seemed to recall Hunt was from the same region as Brienne. He just couldn’t pinpoint exactly where.

“Yeah. Tarth _was_ home, because of my father, but when he was gone… I was alone there. Hyle needed to go home after Jo was born, so he offered us a place to stay. When Jo was about six months old, I came back to the city, got an apartment. I had to transfer schools, because…” Brienne looked at him ruefully before speaking again. “Well…too many memories. So I started at KLU, which was a good idea because they had daycare for students and staff. I could leave Jo there while I was in class.” She smiled with pride, “Jo was a great baby. Never any trouble, she wasn’t fussy, or whiny, or anything like that. Everyone loved her.”

Jaime smiled warmly. In his mind he could see his daughter as a plump, pink-faced babe, with his green eyes and her mother’s freckles.

“Go on.” Jaime said, seeing Brienne hesitate.

“Um…a few months later, Hyle showed up at my apartment. He had moved here too, and wanted to check if I was ok. He often offered to babysit Jo if I had to work, or study for exams. He was really…he was a true friend.”

 Seeing Jaime tense again, she kissed him softly, sweetly. “That’s why he and Jo are close, and that’s why he’s in our lives. Jaime, I know you've never been friends, but I’m only asking that you try to set that aside.”

She was pleading with him.

It was the easiest thing to try and force her to make a choice. _If you really love me you’ll remove him from our lives_ , he wanted to say. But he decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing that he had no right. Even though he suspected Hunt had ulterior motives for his kindness towards Brienne, he had to admit that he owed the man a debt that he could never repay. He had been there for Brienne, offered her and his daughter help and a home of sorts. Hunt had done what Jaime hadn’t been there to do.

And he couldn’t begrudge him that.

Jaime kissed Brienne on the forehead. “Tell me more about Jo as a baby.”

She happily obliged, and as it turned out, she had many stories to tell: Joanna had slept with her bottom up in the air until she was two. Bananas were the first solid food she tasted. Brienne’s favorite thing was watching her wake up because her emerald eyes were so perfectly beautiful. “ _Your_ eyes,” she whispered to Jaime, as he kissed her gently on the lips.

Brienne continued reliving her memories for his benefit; Jo had the sweetest smile, and she loved it when her mother read “Hear Me Roar!” a popular fairy tale for children, every night.

“That was her first word,” Brienne told Jaime, smiling. “Roar.”

There was that fist clutching his heart again. “If she’s a lion it’s only because of you. Go ahead, tell me more. Tell me everything”

So she did. Jaime filed away every detail in his mind, not wanting to forget a thing. He listened to Brienne speak, loving the deep timber of her voice roughened by the deepening night. They spoke softly to each other, their hands entwined on his chest.

 

*******

 

She wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him tight, as if she feared he would be snatched away from her again. He held her too.

“You asked about Jo’s love for photography,” Brienne said. “She started taking pictures because of you. One of your photos was in the newspaper, when you covered the civil war in Mereen. The article was about how there was so much death on both sides, the boy soldiers being forced to fight. I saw your name in the credits. That’s—that’s when I told her about you. She was seven. Since then. . .”

“Tell me.”

Brienne’s eyes shone. “For about a year she kept asking me about how her daddy got to take those pictures, and I told her you had a very powerful and special camera. I knew next to nothing about photography, of course. So on her birthday, I got her one, and I enrolled her in a photography class for kids. She was so happy.” Brienne sniffed softly. “She said that now, she could see the world just like Daddy did.”

Jaime was finding it difficult to breathe, a sharp pain lodged in his chest. His beautiful, smart daughter not only loved and accepted him but wanted to be like him— _him_ , a man who was. . .what did he measure up to, anyway? He looked at Brienne and saw the same raw emotion on her face, in her eyes, those eyes that would never lie to him.

He knew that now.

Brienne suddenly looked at him, her eyes hard. “I could _kill_ Cersei for what she did to us.”

Jaime stroked her cheek.

“I want her to suffer Jaime, for everything she did, for what she put us through. For what she put _my daughter_ through.”

He brushed a thumb on her lip, tracing the pillowy, upturned curve.

“I don’t care that she’s your sister. We lost fifteen years because of her. I know I said we have to accept what happened, forgive the past, but what she did. . .I will _never_ forgive her for that.” She grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily and he kissed her back, turning and pulling her on top of him.

“I lost you,” she whispered. “If we had been together all this time, I would love you even more now. I can never forgive her. _Never_.”

He looked into her eyes then, drowning in the soft blue there.

“Cersei’s dead, Brienne.”

She looked at him open-mouthed with shock, sitting up suddenly on her knees. Jaime pushed himself up until he could lean against the headboard.

“Dead?” She echoed, her voice ending in a gasp. “H-How?”

Jaime looked at the ceiling, and then at her. He saw that Brienne was frowning, waiting for an answer, and he couldn’t quite tell if the deep scowl on her face was because Cersei had escaped a well-deserved beating by her hands, or because she was sympathetic on his behalf, knowing that at least at some point in his life, he had adored his sister. Her eyes had darkened, giving him a glimpse of the woman Brienne could be when forced to fight for the ones she loved.

He wouldn’t want to be on the opposing side of a battle with her.

If Brienne hurt from having to remember the past because he wasn’t there, Jaime felt a lingering pity for his sister. Pity, because with the way she had lived in her last years, death could be her only escape. Tyrion was right: Jaime’s unwavering trust in Cersei had cost him two of the most important people in his life. He took Brienne’s hand.

“Cersei’s addiction got worse. She started experimenting with much harder shit, and she developed an alcohol problem in addition to the drugs” He squeezed her hand, maybe to comfort her, or was it himself? But now he could say the words and not be tormented with guilt. 

“One day… she went too far.” The last sentence came out swift and guttural, as if it were something bitter that had to be put to rest. Bitterness, yes, and it was black and thick like sludge. He continued, his voice a hoarse whisper. _“_ She actually got married, you know? To Robert Baratheon. Had three kids, whom she always ignored because my sister was either too high or too drunk to properly be any kind of a mother to them. In the end, Robert divorced her and got full custody of the kids, and Cersei never saw them again. Neither did we”

Brienne looked astonished. She had never met Robert Baratheon, but she remembered his younger brother Renly with a deep sadness. He had taken some of the same courses as her, and for a time, she had been hopelessly in love with him. A harmless crush, which had evaporated the moment she found out he was gay. When Renly died in a horrendous car crash, leaving his boyfriend Loras devastated, Brienne was overcome with the heartbreaking grief of losing someone who was the closest thing she had to a friend.

It was some time after Renly’s death that she had met Hyle. And then, Jaime.

She felt him softly kissing her cheek. “It seems so fucking unfair, doesn’t it? That she’s not here to pay for what she did to us?” He raised her hand to his lips. “But we’re alive, Brienne and we found each other. Cersei…she had a miserable, wretched life, always in the chokehold of some addiction or other, away from her husband, from her children, from her brothers, from Father...” At this Jaime took a deep sigh. “She was never happy, Brienne. She hadn’t been happy since we were children and our mother was still alive. I could never do anything for her, and believe me I tried. The last time I saw her, she just wanted money from me. Cersei couldn’t care less if I was alive or dead. I was just a source of income for her.”

Jaime squeezed Brienne’s hand, his voice shaking. “The last time I saw her… she asked me for more money, and I said no. I couldn’t continue feeding her addiction any longer. She screamed at me to get out, that I was a useless wimp, that I had always been useless.” He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering. “A month later she was dead.”

Jaime took a deep breath before speaking again. “My father died shortly after she did, suffered from a heart attack. He never recovered from the guilt, from thinking that somehow he had been responsible for everything that was wrong with her. Of course, he always lived so disappointed in me, cursing that I was always somewhere taking photos of war and devastation when my rightful place was leading the family business.” Jaime laughed bitterly. “As it turns out, Tyrion was the son that took Tywin Lannister’s place, much to his chagrin. My brother sometimes jokes that him becoming what my father wanted _me_ to be, may have been what finally killed him.”

Jaime eyes looked distant and lost. “The son he shunned all his life, was the one that in the end, he had to rely on the most. When he had a second stroke… he didn’t survive it.”

Brienne stared at Jaime in disbelief, her heart breaking for him and for all the pain he had been through. She thought of Tyrion Lannister now heading the Lannister empire, and remembered the few times she had met him when she and Jaime were in college. It was hard for Brienne to reconcile the image of the young enthusiastic drinker and, according to Jaime, frequent whoremonger with the picture of a respectable and quite capable CEO.

But what had Brienne reeling, was how Cersei Lannister managed to one way or another, damage the lives of everyone around her: her father, her husband, her children. Not to mention the brother who she cheated out of knowing his own child.

_Cersei had nearly destroyed them both._

Brienne put her arms around Jaime, and held him tight. She had wanted so badly to hurt Cersei Lannister for all the damage she had done, make her feel the same excruciating, relentless pain. Cersei’s death stole that from her.

But having Jaime here again, feeling his strong warm body against hers, Brienne took solace in the unexpected realization that after all these years, she had perhaps been gifted with something far more precious than revenge.

 _Don’t let me go, Jaime_ she thought desperately to herself, snuggling closer to him. _Please, never let me go again._

 

*******

 

Jaime didn’t realize how his body had become taut with rising anger at Cersei’s betrayal and cruelty, until Brienne’s fingers softly feathered his jaw. He stared at her, wondering why she was giving him this tenderness, a kindness he didn’t deserve. But that was Brienne, he marveled. Not everyone deserved her heart.

He certainly didn’t.

She was looking at him, her expression curious, but also concerned. There was a tentative kind of affection now, as if she was afraid to give it fully. She should be. Loving him had set her up for the most vicious kind of pain. That was her only crime, choosing to love him.

_Cersei, I don’t know how, but one day, the debt shall be paid. And I hope that wherever you are, you are living in torment._

All thoughts of revenge vanished when Brienne brushed her lips against his. _Gods, those lips_. Jaime groaned and kissed her back, coaxing her lips to open, touching his tongue with hers in a slow dance of remembrance, of hope. As if sensing his greatest fear, she whispered in his ear between kisses: “ _I’m not going anywhere, Jaime.”_

She suddenly grabbed his hair, drawing a yelp from him. She smirked, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. As they kissed again, Jaime’s hands settled on her breasts, cupping them possessively.

She gasped and moaned over his head as he flicked his tongue on the tender pink nipples. Then she was dragging him by the hair again, drinking from his mouth, sucking his tongue. He suddenly grabbed her, holding her tight as he moved so they could switch. It startled a soft laugh from Brienne when she found herself on her back, and Jaime laughed right along with her.

It had been so long since he had laughed without bitterness.

He took hungry drags from her nipples, enjoying her moans, loving the challenge that her writhing body offered. He wanted to mark her in every way so she would never forget to whom she belonged.

Her body gleamed with sweat, her freckles grading shades of pink and red, so beautiful. _She_ was beautiful, with her messy hair, heavy-lidded sapphire eyes, swollen mouth. Jaime drank in the sight of her, panting and pleading with him before he spread her thighs wide and lowered his head.

Brienne had always been hairy, but she was even more so now. Jaime shoved his face right into the soaked pink crevice, breathing in her most secret scent, filling his tongue with the true taste of her. She was so sweet, almost sinful with how good she tasted.

Lost in her taste, his eyes didn’t dart back to her face until a few moments later, and he was transfixed by the sight of her. Brienne was pinching her nipples, her head thrown back, sweat pouring from her chest to gather at her navel. It was the sexiest, most erotic thing Jaime had ever seen, nearly making him come right there on the sheets. Realizing he must end this self-inflected torture soon, he scooped his hands under her heavy hips and lifted her.

Brienne’s eyes widened when she realized the position he wanted. Jaime was on his knees, her hips resting on his thighs, her legs crossed around the middle of his back. She was heavy, but no heavier than when she was in college. Fuck, she was still the best thing he had ever held in his arms.

“Your knees—” she started to say but he shook his head.

“If there’s anyone who should be concerned about walking, it’s you, wench. Hold on to me, I’ve got you. I’m strong enough”

She kissed him lovingly. “I remember.”

He seized her hips and slammed her down on his cock.

_“Fuck!”_

His thigh muscle bunched thigh from tension and effort as he pushed Brienne up and down his cock. As she would kiss him and pant his name, Jaime became impossibly harder, straining the flesh of her cunt. For the sake of his quaking knees, he urged her on her back, and she wailed as her cunt was left empty but Jaime didn’t make her wait. He was quick to be on top of her, easing himself back inside where he belonged.

“Jaime, please, _oh gods_ , you’re killing me,” Brienne moaned. But her hips were moving just as roughly as his were “So... good,” she panted.  "Gods! _Jaime, Jaime_ …”

“The best…with you…always,” he said panting, but still thrusting inside her with relentless zeal. “Fuck, fuck!”

_“Jaime, Jaime, oohh. . .”_

She pulled him down, opening her mouth wide. They kissed to devour, to swallow, to give and take. Jaime cupped her face in his hands, keeping her head still so he could kiss her as deeply as he wanted while Brienne nodded in approval.

He couldn’t believe he survived all this time without her. If the gods were kind, the time they had lost would be infinitesimal to all the time they could have now.

Jaime lifted himself from their kiss, whispered at Brienne to look at him. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue; eyes that always saw more in him than he ever could.

He had lived his life capturing turning points of history, an eyewitness to the harshness of the world yet also to the rare moments of good. His camera had always been his weapon, enabling him to witness what others couldn’t. Jaime had made a point of  never staying in one place too long, not when there were so many things to see, to capture through his lens. He realized with sudden conviction that the incessant need to escape, to go somewhere new, just wasn’t there. 

He recognized the feeling as complete and total fulfillment.

 _After all this time,_ he thought. _I’m finally home._

 

**_***_ **

 

Later, as he began to doze, Brienne put her lips close to his hear.

“I thought I would only have pieces of you to remember,” she whispered. “I never dreamed that someday, you would come back to me.”

 

********

 

Brienne felt the sun on her face; she had neglected to draw the drapes last night. Scrunching her forehead, she turned away from its glare and buried her face in the warm crook between Jaime’s neck and shoulder.

He was really here.

_He came back._

She didn’t open her eyes immediately, instead rubbing her nose against his skin, smelling his sweat, and her own musk there. She frowned, wrinkling her nose. Her eyes opened and she sniffed, louder this time.

_Gods._

The _entire_ room smelled of sex.

“Wench,” Jaime’s sleepy drawl startled her. “I hope that if you’re leaving this bed, it’s only to close those drapes.”

His eyes were closed as he spoke. Brienne, still blushing, got up from the bed.

In the harsh light of day, her bedroom looked like the aftermath of a frat party. A chair was overturned from when Jaime had bumped into it last night, when he made a water run to the kitchen. The sheets had been dragged off their hospital corners. Jaime’s head rested on one pillow—it was the only pillow in bed because the rest were on the floor, with their cases either completely off or half-off. Bits and pieces of her torn dress littered the floor, as well as tatters of her underwear. Jaime’s shoes had been flung to opposite corners of the room. His pants and shirt were crumpled on the floor too. And under her right foot were his boxers.

His eyes still closed, Jaime murmured, “You’re just standing there.”

“I’m trying not to go crazy with how the room looks like right now.”

“I know the solution to that.” He opened his eyes, clear, beautiful emeralds. His grin was angelic.

“Why do I have a feeling that I’ll regret asking what your brilliant solution is?”

Jaime threw off the blanket and showed off his morning erection proudly. “Hop on, wench.”

Brienne burst out laughing and threw his boxers in his direction, hitting him right on the face.

“Get dressed, pervert. Catelyn is bringing Jo home in an hour.”

Brienne slipped on a white silk robe printed with winter roses. She got another robe from the post and tossed it at Jaime. “As much as I’d like to lounge around _Mr. Lannister_ , our daughter will be in need of breakfast. A delicious but nutritious breakfast, that I take personal pride in preparing. Now, put that robe on.”

Jaime sat up with a sigh and touched the robe. “I’d say this is an improvement from the one you used to lend me. Not sure if purple is my color, although I _do_ like the unicorns,” he grinned.

Brienne pointed at the bathroom door. “I’ll take a shower first, you can go after. I’ll let you have the spare toothbrush in the cabinet, it’s the red one.” Jaime nodded, giving her a sleepy smile.

While he took his time putting on the robe, Brienne went to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, pausing as she did so, remembering everything about the previous night.

She wasn’t going to get pregnant. Brienne hadn’t been on birth control for a while, but by now she knew her cycle well. She had made a point to learn it by heart after having Jo.

Brienne had noticed the changes in Jaime's body right away. The memory of him was burned into every part of her, and she remembered exactly how he felt under her hands. He was more muscular now, his skin a deeper golden hue, but her fingers had roamed over numerous bumps and ridges on his chest, his shoulders, his back. He was still so beautiful; time had not done one thing to diminish that. But multiple scars, some faded and others that seemed more recent, had been visible under the soft scrutiny of her bedroom lamp. She had wanted to ask him about it, but then decided not to, suspecting that he had gone through terrible things as a consequence of his work. Jaime would tell her the stories behind his scars, or he wouldn't. Brienne thought it wasn't her place to ask, at least not yet. And she knew all too well that the scars he also carried on the inside, were just as prominent as her own.

Besides, she didn't want to risk ruining everything that had happened last night.

She could still feel everything they had done. Every word they had spoken to each other had been inscribed in her brain. Brienne looked at herself in the mirror, and the woman staring back at her, looked like she could use another hour of sleep. Or two. But she also looked. . .content. It was strange, seeing herself this way. Her eyes were the same, her hair, her freckles, but Brienne couldn’t reconcile that this was _her_. She was used to seeing herself despondent, broken, haunted by a persistent sadness that was only alleviated by her daughter’s presence. Anything to do with Jo made her happy, but this feeling of contentment was so new that it unsettled her. It was a like having a estranged relative in the house; one she hadn’t seen in a very long time. She smiled at her reflection, seeing something close to hope mirrored back at her.

When she came out of the shower, Jaime was standing in the middle of the bedroom. The bed had been fixed, and there were no clothes on the floor. Best of all, he was wearing her purple robe with the white unicorns. His hair was mussed, and he needed a shave but damn, the man looked _good_. His face split in a wide grin, dimples deepening as he saw the obvious pleasure on her face.

“I guess that makes up for not being able to fuck you this morning,” he teased her. “That smile and you looking like you spent a good, hot night of amazing sex. Have I mentioned that’s my favorite look on a wench?”

It was like they had never been apart. Maybe it should be strange but if she was honest with herself, Brienne only felt relief.

“Yes, you _have_ mentioned that, actually. And it’s something that I’d rather not have our daughter witness.” She tweaked his nose playfully.

Jaime’s smile faltered. Concerned, she asked, “What is it?”

“You said _our_ daughter,” he said softly. “I—I thought it would be awkward getting around it at first, you know? But you. . .saying that. _Our daughter_. I just didn’t think you would want me in her life, in both your lives.”

Brienne touched his cheek. “You’re her father, Jaime. Of course I want you in her life. And Jo wants you here too.” She smiled at him. “We’ll take baby steps. Together. There’s no need to rush anything.”

He gave her a sad smile. “In my case I have to rush a little, Brienne. I didn’t see her as a baby, didn’t get to hold her, bounce her on my lap—Fuck, in a couple of years, she can probably split me in two without breaking a sweat.”

She took his hand. What was there to say? There were only so many apologies that could be spoken. She kissed his cheek.

“Don’t take too long in the shower, ok? I’m making banana pancakes.”

The significance was not lost on Jaime. He grinned. “They’re Jo’s favorite too, huh?”

“She _is_ your daughter”, Brienne said, smiling. Jaime grabbed her hand and kissed it softly.

 

*******

 

As Brienne was in the kitchen slicing bananas, the phone rang loudly. She groaned, cursing anyone who was calling so early, and on such a beautiful day. Jaime was back, and Jo finally had her father with her. She didn’t know what exactly existed between them now, what last night meant for both of them, for their future. But Brienne didn’t want to think about tomorrow just yet; she wanted to enjoy what she had _now_.

She wished they could go away from the city for a while, the three of them.

It would be wonderful to go somewhere far with the man she loved and their daughter. Maybe to a place with lots of scenery, where Jaime could teach Jo what he knew about photography, while her curious daughter would ask him millions of questions. Brienne felt her heart swell with happiness, smiling as she daydreamed.

The loud shrill of the phone was interrupting her thoughts. She decided not to answer, the recorded voice instructing the caller to leave a message after the beep.

Brienne had picked up the skillet to spread butter on it when she heard it.

_Seven Bloody Hells!_

“---have to think of Jo, Bree. I love her like she’s my own daughter. All I need for you is to say yes, ok? Will you marry me? Make me the happiest man…?” Hyle’s voice was saying passionately. The spatula fell from Brienne’s suddenly limp hand, as she slammed the skillet on the stove and dashed towards the machine to turn the fucking thing off.

She gasped as she smacked right into Jaime, who was now fully dressed and fragrant after his shower. He looked at her, his emerald eyes hard as glaciers, his face contorted with anger.

“Jaime, it’s not—”

“Give Hyle Hunt my deepest congratulations and regards, Brienne,” he said almost softly, before turning away and slamming the front door shut behind him as he left.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion gives Jaime a much-needed verbal beat down. Jo pays a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end now. Although...  
> I split chapter 8 in two because I felt that if I left it in one chapter, everything would feel to rushed and scattered. This way, the narrative is more condensed and a much better read. In my opinion, anyway :)  
> I want to give huge thanks to ShirleyAnn66 for her advice on this chapter. I was hopelessly stuck in some logistics and in how to move certain things along, and she gave me amazing advice.  
> Thanks so much Shirley! *hugs*
> 
> So...Chapter 8.

The high-ceilinged apartment, with its spacious rooms and dark cedar floors, had been waiting a long time for its new owner to finally mark it as his, to claim it as his home. As things stood now, it would have to wait a while longer.

Work often kept Jaime traveling for months, and he would only stay in the apartment for about a week before he was off on another assignment with an undetermined end time. Nevertheless, he _had_ made some attempts to make it feel less abandoned. There was a wall with photos from countries as far as Naath and Sothoryos. From Westeros, he had framed shots of the phenomenon known as the ‘Warrior’s Dance,’ clear and golden in the clear skies from the Winterlands.

On an end table, which in truth was a converted antique trunk he had lugged with him from Braavos, Jaime had propped a small collection of personal photos. One was of him, many years ago, dressed in battle gear during his embed with the troops in Qarth; another with his brother Tyrion, when they were much younger, taken in Casterly Rock. Then there was the photo of his mother, smiling serenely at the camera while the wind gently fluttered her shoulder-length golden hair, taken shortly before her death. He had photos of someone else, stored away, which he never framed or displayed on any table. But through the years, when he found himself dreaming of her beautiful blue eyes, he would take the photos out of their hiding place and stare at them for hours.

The bedroom was really the only place where Jaime had properly established some sort of personal dominion, but now it just spoke of chaos. Takeout boxes and crushed plastic cups were slowly taking over the surface of his nightstand. Books and magazines littered the floor too, indicating that at some point they had been on the wide desk that was now suspiciously empty. The only neat area in the bedroom was where Jaime kept his photography equipment—a collection of cameras, cables, cases, tripods, lenses.

In the middle of an imposing dark wood bed, Jaime was spread-eagled and snoring loudly; he was also laying face down, and completely naked.

Tyrion took in the entire scene, and made a face of sullen distaste. He _did_ feel compassion for his older brother, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. From the little sense he’d been able to make of Jaime’s drunken call a few hours ago, he knew that his brother was in pain, but this was no way for Jaime to act. Tyrion went back to the living room, grabbed the fireplace poker, and prodded Jaime’s leg with it a few times.

Jaime grunted and turned, his eyes opening slowly. Upon seeing Tyrion, he snatched the pillow from under his head and threw it at him but it skidded to the end of the bed instead. Jaime ultimately dragged the blanket over his body and huddled under it. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to see anybody. He was drained…so fucking drained.

The anger, _the hurt_ of the past hours came back with a vengeance, eager to make him remember when all he wanted was to forget. He badly wished that what happened the previous night had only been one very long nightmare.

“You know, this is not helpful behavior you’re displaying right now,” Tyrion spoke up. “At all.”

Jaime curled into a ball under the blanket, sniffing his arm. Fuck, he could still _smell_ Brienne on his skin. It had only been hours since he stormed out of her apartment after hearing that damn message on her machine, and those had been some of the darkest hours of his life. Finding out that Hyle Hunt had proposed to her, and she hadn’t even thought of telling him about it was worse than Seven Hells.

He watched as Tyrion puttered around the room, picking up rubbish from the floor and straightening things up. “You’re acting like a fucking child who saw his crush sharing a soda with the popular guy from the eighth grade,” Tyrion said crossly. “You’re a grown man, Jaime. In a few years you’ll be forty. You’ve been passed out in a drunken stupor for hours now. Get up.”

“Leave.”

“I should,” he agreed. “I should leave you here to wallow in your self-made misery, but I won’t. Get up, Jaime. _Now_.”

Jaime growled as Tyrion’s small but meaty hand smacked his shoulder loudly. He tore the sheets off his body and glared at his brother, who was looking around in disapproval. “You wouldn't happen to have some industrial-strength cleaning solution in this hovel, would you?”

Jaime wrapped the sheets protectively around his waist as he sat up. Gods, he had moved too fast and now his head felt like there was an axe wedged in it. Groaning, he fell on his back, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh, fuck you! You drank everything in sight at The Red Viper, the whole reservoir of beer that was in your fridge, and then binged on cheap Tyroshi takeout. What did you expect?” Tyrion said impatiently.

Jaime sat up carefully this time, but still grimacing. “Are you here to help me or to piss me off?”

“So fucking dramatic,” Tyrion retorted. “You are in dire need of a shower and you reek of cheap alcohol. Get cleaned up while I try to restore some order to this trashcan you call an apartment.” He frowned at the mess on the floor. “You weren’t this much of a pig when Brienne left you the first time.”

Jaime glared at his brother. “She did _not_ leave me this time, and she didn’t leave me last time either. I fucking told you that already! And I actually did take a shower…this morning. Or was it yesterday morning? Fuck, I can’t remember…”

“Whatever you say. Go shower, I’ll make you something decent to eat.”

Jaime’s stomach churned at his brother’s suggestion. “I don’t really want food right now.”

“Then you’ll have a shake or something.” Tyrion looked at him, concern drawn all over his face. Though Jaime was awake and alert, he looked dazed. Tyrion snapped his fingers at him and Jaime flushed. “Go on. I’ll take care of this damn mess.”

Jaime nodded gently, as to not disturb the relentless thumping in his head. He draped the blanket around his shoulders and shuffled to the bathroom, tripping on some of the boxes on the way, causing him to curse loudly and wince in pain. He had to hobble the rest of the way there.

Once in the shower, he rested his head against the tiles, while the warm water battered his back. Jaime closed his eyes, and found himself again in Brienne’s bedroom.

For the first time in years, he had felt complete in her arms. _Inside her_. His fingers curled uselessly on the slick tiles as memories of her smile and her laugh returned like the gentle approach of waves toward the shore. When she smiled now, there were soft lines around the corners of her eyes, and just because of that, they were even more beautiful to him than before.

His daughter had Brienne’s smile, he thought fondly. She clearly took after him in so many ways, but her pale hair, her freckles, and her smile, with the slightest hint of warmth-filled shyness, was all Brienne.

Jaime pushed away from the wall and rubbed shampoo and soap vigorously on his skin and his hair. The headache was beginning to recede, but there was still a painful clench in his heart that just wouldn’t go away. He turned off the shower, taking in deep breaths, trying to regain some kind of control over himself. After drying off with a large towel, he dumped the blanket in the hamper and dressed in an old t-shirt and jogging pants that he dug out of the closet. Surrounded by sudden silence, Jaime walked slowly towards the living room.

Tyrion had made good on his promise: The living room now looked restored to something akin to normal. His brother was in the kitchen, standing on a stool as he stirred a tall glass that was sitting on the table. Jaime couldn’t help making a face at the smell of vodka and hot sauce tickling his nose.

“I thought you were going to make me a shake,” he said, his voice low and still thick with sleep.

“You don’t have anything in your fridge for it, unless you want me to puree chicken wings in it.” Tyrion answered. “The Bloody Maiden will be better for you.”

Jaime went to the living room and flopped down on the sofa as Tyrion finished mixing the drink and hopped off the stool.

“Moping isn’t the way, brother,” he said, handing his sullen-faced brother the drink. Jaime frowned before reluctantly taking it. He took a tentative sip, frowned again, then downed it until he had finished half of it really hoping that he didn’t get sick and vomit.

“What would you know about moping?” Jaime muttered as he put the glass on the table while Tyrion made himself comfortable on a dark brown leather chair. “You have no idea how it is to give someone _everything_. How it feels to love another person like I love _her_.”

“That must be the alcohol in you talking. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be making those idiotic affirmations about me.”

Jaime looked at his brother, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Tyrion glanced at him. “So, nothing? You haven’t talked to her? She hasn’t called you?” He looked at Jaime with a hint of pity in his eyes before saying, “Why don’t you tell me again what happened? I think I got most of it from your alcohol-induced rambling, but I’d like to hear it now when you’re somewhat close to coherent again.”

Jaime sank lower on the couch until he was slouching, sighing deeply while he remembered the disaster that followed Hunt’s message. Brienne had chased him all the way to the elevator but she had been unable to catch up to him before the doors had shut in her face. He didn’t turn around until he reached the lobby, but he had secretly hoped that Brienne had taken the stairs to try and stop him before he left, to offer some sort of explanation that would make sense. But there had been no sign of her.

He walked away from Brienne’s building, giving backward glances to check if perhaps she was behind him, if she had gone after him, and it wasn’t until he had reached the street corner that he gave up. But even when he finally managed to hail a cab, he told the driver to wait for just a minute longer.

Nothing.

No calls, no voicemail, not a fucking text message from her. Feeling his anger and his jealousy rumble inside him like an impending storm, he ordered the driver to take him to The Red Viper. Tyrion was sure to be there, and Jaime needed a drink.

Or a thousand of them.

His brother was nowhere to be found, but once he started drinking he had been unable to stop, until the bartender announced that it was closing time, and grim-faced, had offered to call Jaime a cab. He didn’t know what time it was, but he heard the cabdriver say it was well past midnight when they reached his apartment building. Jaime had barely been able to fit the key in the lock as he stumbled to the kitchen and began drinking all the beer he had in the fridge, guzzling it down quickly to keep Brienne and Hunt’s marriage proposal away from his thoughts.

He remembered nothing after that.

But now, everything was coming back to him with vivid clarity, and he felt the overwhelming pain all over again. Jaime heard Brienne’s words bouncing in the back of his mind, saying that she had no feelings for that asshole; but she _had_ said more than once that she wanted him in her life, that he was her best friend. He didn’t believe Brienne loved Hyle Hunt. Jaime was certain that her passion and her words of love (yes, he was sure of that) had been only for him. But wasn’t it possible that she would accept Hunt’s proposal out of plain gratitude? After all, Jaime had been absent from Brienne and Jo’s lives for fifteen years, and she had been certain that he didn’t want anything to do with either of them. Perhaps she thought that despite his reassurances, he couldn’t really be trusted. And after he ran out of her apartment the way he did…

_Fuck!_

How _could_ she trust him?

Tyrion was stoically observing the emotions sifting through Jaime’s face as he quietly retold the fiasco from the previous day, nodding slowly. “Well, in my honest opinion, Brienne has always been a very smart woman. Much smarter than you, of course”

“Meaning what?” Jaime demanded.

“Meaning that you’re being completely irrational over this, Jaime. Don’t you see that? She told you she never had any kind of romantic relationship with that Hyle guy. Never slept with him, never loved him. He’s a good friend who has always been there for her. The man asked her to marry him. So what? You didn't even bother to stick around long enough to hear Brienne’s side! She _told_ you exactly the nature of their relationship: _friends_ , nothing more. And you still left! Why the fuck would she even call you right now?”

“You don’t know Hyle Hunt like I do, Tyrion. He’s a fucking snake just crawling around, waiting for his chance. Why the hells didn’t she tell me about his proposal? Why did she keep that from me?”

“Can you blame her? Look at how you’re acting! And let me answer both your questions, my moronic big brother. First, don’t you think Brienne would crush Hunt’s head if he tried to put unsolicited moves on her? And second, both of you talked through the night about much more important things, and at the end of it, you and Brienne were probably extremely emotional and exhausted. Isn’t it possible that she just _forgot_ to tell you?”

Jaime shook his head and flung an arm over his eyes. “Hunt was there, Tyrion. When she was pregnant, when she gave birth. He’s always been there for her. How could she forget to tell me that he proposed _marriage_?”

“Yeah, he was there. He’s _been_ there for fifteen years.”

Jaime’s face was like stone. “You don’t have to remind me of that.”

“No. You s _hould_ be reminded. Get that arm off your face and look at me. Fucking _listen_ to me, Jaime!”

He jerked his arm away and sat up, but what he saw in Tyrion’s face left him gaping like an idiot. His brother disturbingly reminded him of Tywin Lannister right now, despite the pale hair, mismatched eyes and his dwarfism. At this moment, he looked like the powerful Lannister patriarch returned to life.

It made Jaime exceedingly nervous.

Tyrion continued with his speech, looking directly at Jaime. “Hyle has been hanging around Brienne for _more_ than fifteen years, right? Now, I doubt you’re the great catch you believe yourself to be, but from everything you told me, she’s still clearly madly in love with you. Don’t you think that if anything were to happen between her and Hunt, it would have _happened_ by now?”

Tyrion was on a roll, and he wasn’t about to stop now, his words pouring out of him in a rush. “Think about it: Brienne had no clue where you were or even if you wanted anything to do with her and Jo _._ She could have married Hyle, or anyone else for that matter. For whatever grace the Gods decided to grant, you found her again. Then you discover you have a daughter, you fight, and to put the icing on the damn cake, you sleep with her. I’m certainly no love expert Jaime, but unlike you, I seem to know the difference between fucking someone you love and fucking someone just to scratch an itch. Where do you and Brienne stand on that?”

Jaime was silent.

“You’re a fool! This—“and Tyrion pointed at him angrily, finger moving swiftly up and down. “None of this is her doing. It’s _you_. Rather than staying and talking to her, you decided to leave. And now you’re moping like a kicked dog because she won’t call you?”

Jaime sighed, depleted. “Look, even if I’m back in their lives, Hyle is always going to be in the middle, always intruding. How can I compete with that?”

“There is _no_ competition, for fuck’s sake! Jaime, don’t be so stupid! Brienne loves _you_. You’re Joanna’s _father._ ”

“Jo.”

“What was that?”

Jaime felt something in his heart give, and he breathed, deeply. “She prefers Jo, not Joanna. Brienne only calls her Joanna when she’s in trouble.”

Tyrion’s eyes softened. “Right. You said that before.”

A sudden sharp buzzing announced that someone was at the door, interrupting what Tyrion was going to say next. Jaime groaned, burying his face in his hands as his brother leaped off the chair.

“You love Brienne, and she loves you. This irrational anger that you feel is entirely of your choosing, Jaime. Think about that.”

He listened to Tyrion’s footsteps disappearing behind the wall. Then a click of the lock as the door squeaked open. “Seven Bloody Hells!” he heard Tyrion exclaim. “If I hadn’t been told about you, I’d think you were my darling sister coming back to haunt me.”

Jaime jerked upright as he heard Jo’s laughing voice. “You must be my Uncle Tyrion,”

He scrambled quickly to his feet, righting his clothes and hastily fixing his hair. By the time he deemed himself decent enough to face his daughter, Tyrion’s footsteps were getting closer, followed by Jo’s lighter ones. He had never been more grateful to his younger brother than in that moment, realizing that if not for Tyrion, Jo would have seen his apartment littered with empty beer bottles and smelling like rotting takeout.

Tyrion was grinning, followed closely by Jo and Jaime couldn’t help but smile too, despite feeling like shit.

She smiled brightly back at him. _There. Brienne’s smile._ He straightened up and held out his arms awkwardly. “Hi, Jo. This is a surprise.”

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at Jaime’s uncharacteristic unease, but Jo beamed and threw herself in her father’s arms. Jaime held her tight, the top of her head just barely below his cheek. She was the most important thing in his life now and he would never fail her, no matter where his uncertain relationship with Brienne would end up.

“Uh, Dad?” Jo was trying to squirm away from his arms. “I won’t float away if you just let me breathe a little.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jaime quickly dropped his arms as she stepped away, her cheeks bearing a slight pink tint, which Jaime recognized as a lighter version of Brienne’s prominent blush.

Jo’s height made her seem slightly older than her age, but her choice of wardrobe was probably the same as any other teenager, at least it seemed that way to Jaime. Her hair was in a loose ponytail with a pink hoodie over a gray t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. A rush of love and pride went suddenly through him and he looked at his feet, embarrassed. The knowledge of having a child was still very new to him, and he wondered briefly if Brienne felt this overwhelming adoration for Jo all the time, his instinct telling him without question that she did.

“I’m sorry for barging in without calling,” Jo began. Jaime looked at his daughter’s face and saw her biting her lip. Looking at her shoes, she continued in a small voice, “I wasn’t really sure if you wanted to see me.”

Jaime’s throat tightened with emotion. “I _always_ want to see you, Jo. You’re welcome here anytime.” He put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. Her emerald eyes were bright, but Jaime could see an uncertainty there. “I swear it, _anytime._ This is also your home.”

“You just moved in here?” Jo asked, taking note of the scarce furniture around her.

Jaime felt himself redden. “Uh, no. Not exactly”

“Jo, is there anything I can get you?” Tyrion asked. “I was just about to order some food for your father. Unless your stomach can handle chicken wings of very strange provenance, because I suspect they’re older than you are.”

Jo laughed loudly. “I’m alright, but thanks.”

Tyrion glanced at Jaime. “I’m ordering from the sandwich place. When I’m done, I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

“No coffee for Jo,” Jaime interjected. “She’ll stunt her growth.”

“So? I can’t be the only short Lannister in the family,” Tyrion joked smiling at Joanna. “I’ll be right back.” To Jaime, he added, “Congratulations, brother. You and Brienne made one beautiful kid.” He winked at his niece. “Jo, you and I have a lot to talk about.”

She smiled widely. “I’m good with that.”

Tyrion waved, and left to place the food order.

“Sorry there’s nothing on hand I can offer you,” Jaime said, gesturing at Jo to sit down. Instead, she glanced at the wall of photos and went there. “I’m hardly around. In fact, it’s only recently that I’ve hung out here longer than usual.”

He followed her to the photos and she turned to look at him. “You travel a lot because of work, right?”

“I used to. I mean, I’m making arrangements to do that less.”

“Why?” Jo leaned close to a photo and read the caption: _The Warrior’s Dance_.

Jaime answered slowly. “Well, because I have a daughter who I want to be close to.” Jo blushed, smiling fondly at him, and he continued speaking, feeling in such awe of her. “I’m getting way too old to be traveling all the time anyway. I can’t handle jet lag they way I did when I was younger.”

Jo snorted, “Come on, you’re not _that_ old.” She turned away from Jaime to look at the picture of the Warrior’s Dance again. “This is unbelievable. Where was this?”

“Winterlands,” Jaime answered. “I was there on assignment a few times to photograph the wildlife there. ”

“That’s the farthest place up north, right?”

“Yeah. Not a place I’d want to go back to. I can hardly tolerate Winterfell as it is.”

“My friend, Rickon Stark…his family’s from Winterfell,” Jo said. “Mom told me that his mom was your teacher in college.”

“Catelyn Stark.” Jaime said nodding. “To tell you the truth, she _never_ liked me very much. But… she did ask your mom to tutor me so I wouldn’t fail the semester. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”

“I know. Mom said that’s how you guys met.”

Jaime remembered those days with Brienne, the happiest time of his life. After her, everything surrounding him had been so bleak and joyless. He only managed to find some sort of a lifeline in his work.

He looked wearily at Jo. “That’s _all_ she told you?”

“She said you were a bit of a handful.” Jo told him, smiling. “But she didn’t know until later how much she liked you and…cared for you.” Jo’s face suddenly turned serious. “Look, I’m not here because…shit. I don’t even know what to say.” She clasped and unclasped her hands before fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.

Jaime put his hands in his pockets. “Well, you can try not saying ‘shit,’ Jo. I don’t think your mom would approve.”

She stared at him stoically. “ _Please_. My mom says much worse than that.” She was silent for a moment before spreading her hands helplessly. “Sorry. I—I want you to know. . .Mom didn’t send me. She thinks I’m in school for a meeting with the Photography Club.”

Jaime sighed. “Jo, I don’t like you lying to your mom. I love that you’re here, but you shouldn’t have to lie to her to come and see me.” His gaze suddenly sharpened. “Did she forbid you…because of what. . .I mean…did she tell you…?”

Jo looked at him, her eyes serious. “Mom has been staring off into space and suddenly bursting into tears for no reason. She tells me it’s allergies, but I don’t need to do the math to know something weird is going on. By the way? She doesn’t _have_ allergies, in case _you_ don’t remember that about her.” Jo said defiantly. “And even if she knew I was coming here, she wouldn’t stop me. Mom is not a vindictive person, she never has been. _You_ should know that.” She crossed her arms and observed him with a critical look, one he knew all too well. It was a mirror of Brienne’s own disapproving stare.

“I know she’s not,” Jaime said defensively. “But if you’re here to bite my head off, your uncle had a pretty good head-start. I admit that I deserve everything he said to me, and I’m sure you want to tell me off as well.”

“No! Dad, come on.” Jo crossed her arms. “You really think I’m here just for that?” She sounded hurt.

Jaime sighed. “No, sweetheart, I know you’re not. It’s just that. . .I fucked up yesterday. Badly.”

Jo gave him a small smile. “Well. . .so much for me not using profanity. And about mom…I don’t think everything is that bad.”

“Unfortunately, I think it is.” Jaime trudged back to the sofa and sat down. Jo watched him first, and then sat down on the armchair Tyrion had occupied moments before. Her eyes brimmed with intelligence and concern.

Jaime looked away before speaking, his voice shaking. “I love your mother, Jo. Love her with my life and soul, I always have. Before you arrived, your uncle was outlining the many ways that I’ve been an idiot and a fool, and he’s right, I am. I’m so sorry about everything I said to her, and I wish I could be a better man but. . . too much has happened between us. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the guilt that I was never there for you or your mom. I can’t imagine what you thought of me all these years.”

Jo looked at him silently for a while before saying in a low voice, “Mom had all these stories about you, and one of her favorites was how much you loved taking photos of her. She thinks she’s ugly in pictures, and she doesn’t like to see herself. Which I think is dumb, but she doesn’t listen. I mean, don’t you think she has gorgeous eyes?”

Jaime had to smile. “That’s the first thing I noticed about her.”

His daughter looked at him pleadingly “You should talk to her, Dad. It’s… I don’t want to lose you. I…I just met you. I never thought I’d have you in my life, _ever_. I don’t want you to go away. Please—“

He was quick to go to her, pull her up and hold her tight while Jo clung to him, sobbing quietly.

Jaime knew then that he wasn’t just an idiot and a fool. Apparently, he was thoughtless and cruel as well.

He had accused Brienne of giving up on them and not trusting him, and now he was doing the exact same thing. _His_ heart, _his_ pain, that was what he had focused on, not stopping to think about what Brienne could be feeling, her own confusion. He realized with enormous guilt that his reckless impulsivity could affect not only them, but their daughter too. He had hurt Brienne in the most heartless way, and in doing so, he had also hurt his little girl.

He wanted so badly to bash himself into a pulp for that.

Jaime kissed his daughter tenderly on the forehead, gently brushing away her tears “You’ll never lose me again, Jo. I swear it. I won’t let it happen.”

“Mom loves you,” she said firmly, looking up at him. “And you love her. Why. . .why can’t you be together?”

“I want nothing else,” Jaime declared, knowing in his heart that it was the truth. “I want you and your mom in my life sweetheart, please believe that,” he begged desperately. He looked into his daughter’s green eyes, hoping that she would listen. “Before you and your mother, I didn’t know I could love anyone the way I love you both, Jo.” He hugged her again, his daughter feeling like a trembling bird in his arms. “I promise you, I’m not letting go.”

“Talk to Mom?” Jo asked. “Please?”

Jaime brushed her hair away from her pink cheeks. “I will, Jo. I swear.”

She gave him a watery smile, relieved.

“But before I talk to her, there’s someone I have to speak to first.” Jaime said, getting flustered when he realized what he must do. “And I’m going to need your help.”

Jo looked at him curiously now. “With what?”

Jaime slowly then told her about his plan, hoping silently that this crazy scheme would work.

 

***

Tyrion returned, having placed the food order, which arrived shortly after. Jaime suspected he had stayed in the bedroom longer than necessary so he and Jo could have a chance to really talk. The three of them enjoyed the food, making simple and silly small talk. The only sour moment had been when Jo had cautiously asked about Cersei. Both brothers had looked at each other, and in a somber voice, Jaime had told her about his twin’s death, her addictions; about the cousins Jo had but would probably never know. She had been silent, not saying anything either good or bad, and it occurred to Jaime that even though Jo had every right to hate Cersei, his daughter couldn’t seem to find it in herself to harbor any hatred against her.

Tyrion found that he couldn’t stop staring at his niece, the expression on his face both of surprise and admiration. The girl was intelligent and kind, beautiful yes, but unassuming. She was also witty and light-spirited, no trace of meanness or bitterness in her. She was certainly Brienne’s daughter as much as she was Jaime’s.

Jaime thought to himself that so much had changed over the years, but the love he felt for Brienne had stubbornly remained steadfast in his heart. He had tried to will away his love, crush it between layers of hatred and resentment. Now he understood why he never could.

Tyrion was right: Brienne could easily have spun a tale to make him into a hateful bastard in Jo’s eyes. She had every right to do so, believing everything that Cersei had told her about him was true. Instead, she poured only love and good memories into their daughter, and that love was reflected in the kind of person Jo was. Brienne may have wanted to hate him, but instead she had nurtured through the years a love so pure for him, refusing every opportunity to move on with someone else _._

And what had he done? He had insulted her, belittled her, and doubted her.

Jaime never prayed, but he did so now, in silence. Prayed to the Old Gods and the New that Brienne would hear him out, that she would find it in herself to trust him with her heart a second time.

He waited until he was alone to make the phone call that he hoped would put things right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jo argue.  
> Jaime and Brienne take a final stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lordy, this was a monster!  
> I seriously considered splitting this chapter in two, because yet again, it turned out longer than I expected. BUT I stuck to my guns (see ShirleyAnn66, see??) and I kept it at 10 total. So this is technically the final chapter, because 10 is the epilogue.  
> Ok, I'll shut up now. Enjoy another long-as-fuck chapter!

Brienne sat at the kitchen table, a cup of cold coffee in front of her, untouched. She desperately wished she wasn’t on vacation right now because grading papers and preparing her lectures would have distracted her from the turmoil that was going through her mind, not to mention her heart.

She hadn’t contacted Jaime after he stormed out the other night, furious about Hyle’s message. He hadn’t even bothered to turn around when she ran after him, desperate to explain everything. By the time she had reached the elevator it was too late. He was gone.

Brienne had returned to her apartment in a shock-induced daze that was still weighing heavily on her. Emotionally exhausted from the previous night, she felt that she had nothing left to give, nothing left to feel. But eventually, her sadness and melancholy had given way to anger, an increasing and overwhelming rage towards Hyle for leaving that message on her machine, ruining the only bouts of happiness she had experienced in years. But she was also furious at Jaime, at his lack of trust and faith in her. Hadn’t he understood when she explicitly told him that Hyle was just a friend? How much proof did he need? Wasn’t her word enough?

Jaime hadn’t called or texted her, not yesterday or this morning. She had harbored a glimmer of hope that maybe when his anger and his irrational jealousy subsided, he would see that he had nothing to fear, no reason to think that she had any intention of accepting Hyle’s proposal. But his silence spoke volumes and _damn it_ all to the seven hells if she was going to be the one to call him. She had done _nothing_ wrong. If anything, her only mistake had been her omission in telling him that Hyle had proposed, but she was guilty of nothing else. If he had bothered to stay and talk instead of running out on her, he would have understood that.

Brienne had waited to return Hyle’s call after she had calmed down enough to talk to him. She had no desire to take her anger on him, and she knew that nothing about this was his fault. Hyle didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of her frustration at how everything had gone terribly wrong. His timing had been lousy, but he had no way of knowing that Jaime would be there, or what had happened between them. If anything, she had been the one that had caused all this in her wish to push Hyle’s proposal to the back of her mind, to perhaps see it as an impulsive move that he would eventually rectify.

But after that message, Brienne knew she could no longer delay the inevitable. She had to speak to Hyle and set things straight.

He had picked up the phone after the third ring. Their mutual ‘hellos’ had been an awkward affair, and she couldn’t help being afraid that their friendship would be impossible to repair now. Gently and with carefully measured words, Brienne had declined his marriage proposal, explaining as best she could that she _did_ love him but only as a friend, and that she hoped he could find it in his heart to forgive her and understand her decision.

Hyle had been silent as she spoke. After Brienne was finished, he asked in a low voice if she was still in love with Jaime Lannister. She had hesitated, but knew that she couldn’t lie to him now, not even in an attempt to not hurt him any further.

“Yes. I’m still in love with him,” Brienne had said in a whisper. “I…I’ve never stopped loving him, Hyle. You of all people know that I tried, but…” her voice wavered. “I could never let him go, even when I believed him to be a gutless coward because I thought he had abandoned me and Jo.” It was pointless to tell him that any chance she and Jaime had of building any kind of future together was probably squashed for good anyway. Brienne took a deep breath before speaking again. “You deserve a woman who loves you in the way you deserve to be loved, Hyle. And…I’m not that person. I hope…” Her voice was shaking. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’ve always been so grateful to have you in my life. Jo loves you so much. I…I don’t want Jaime being in my life again to change anything between us, because I don’t think I could live with myself knowing that I lost you.” She couldn’t hold back anymore, and she started sobbing loudly into the phone.

Hyle sighed softly. “Brienne, please don’t cry, ok? It breaks my heart to hear you cry.”

Brienne had taken a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Can you forgive me?” she said, her voice still shaking. “I never meant to hurt you Hyle, please believe that.”

“Brienne, I would never believe you capable of hurting anyone, least of all deliberately,” he said gently, and Brienne couldn’t help feeling the unbearable weight she had been carrying lifting from her shoulders. “I’ll deal…I’ll deal with myself, don’t worry. And I swear that I’ll never walk out of you and Jo’s lives.” His tone became more forceful. “I don’t give a shit if Jaime Lannister is back or not. I love both of you…” Brienne held her breath, and he must have sensed her unease because he was quick to say, “I mean as a friend. I love you as a friend, and I’m not ending a friendship of more than fifteen years just because you won’t marry me. Unless you tell me you don’t want me around anymore.” he finished gloomily.

She closed her eyes, allowing a small smile to appear on her lips. “Have you become hard of hearing in your old age, Hunt? I just told you I want you around, and you are not allowed to say no to your best friend.”

“Well, I just thought to make sure,” he said teasingly, and just like that Brienne knew things would be all right between them. It would probably take a while to get over the lingering self-consciousness, but she was sure that in time, they could find that easy rhythm again.

She desperately wanted to believe that.

Brienne had spoken to him a bit longer, until she heard a jangle of keys outside the front door. Jo was home.

She said a hasty goodbye to Hyle, at the same time he complained that an unknown number, probably a telemarketer, was calling on the other line. Brienne hurriedly washed her face in the kitchen sink, not wanting her daughter to see her red nose and swollen eyes. The allergy excuse could only go so far, and she knew full well that Jo didn’t believe a word of it. Her daughter was too quick to fall for that.

She heard Jo close the door as she made her way into the apartment. “Mom?” she called out. “You home?”

Brienne smiled. “I’m in the kitchen, Jo.”

She watched as her daughter wandered in and made her way over to where Brienne was sitting at the table. Jo put her arms around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she sat down in front of her. Brienne smiled at her as Jo played with her ponytail, a thoughtful expression on her face. She looked so much like Jaime. It hurt a little to be reminded of it, but it also filled Brienne with a sense of wonder at how their love had given life to this amazing child; _their child,_ whom she adored more than anything in the world.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Brienne asked, looking at her watch and frowning. “The meeting ran longer than usual, didn’t it?”

Jo looked uncomfortable, avoiding her mother’s eyes. “Uh…I wasn’t at the meeting, mom.”

Brienne looked at her daughter, concern drawn all over her face. “What do you mean you weren’t at the meeting, honey? That’s where you told me you were going to be, right?” She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Did I misunderstand you?”

Jo stared at her hands on top of the kitchen table for a while, while Brienne looked expectantly at her. She then raised her head and said glumly, “I lied because I was at Dad’s house. I went to see him.”

Brienne was silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say. She wasn’t angry that Jo had gone to see Jaime. He was her father, and the current mess that was happening with them had nothing to do with Jo. She had every right to see him if she wanted. What bothered Brienne was that Jo felt that she had to lie to her to do it.

“Jo, you didn’t have to lie about going to see your dad. I don’t have a problem with you visiting him whenever you like.” She laid a hand on top of Jo’s. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth, sweetheart?”

Her daughter hung her head, embarrassed. “I didn’t know if…you know…with everything that happened with you guys….” Jo exhaled heavily. “If you would be ok with me going there.”

Alarm bells went off in Brienne’s head. Fuck, what had Jaime told her? Had he mentioned sleeping over the other night? She couldn’t believe that he could be so careless, not bothering to speak with her first before mentioning anything to Jo about what was going on.

Brienne tried to steady her voice. “Jo, what did your dad tell you?”

She shrugged. “Just that he said some bad things to you, stuff he shouldn’t have said and that he didn’t think you would forgive him for.” Jo looked at her mother sadly. “He seemed pretty depressed, mom. He looked tired and kind of…I don’t know…lost, I guess. My uncle was there, and it looked like he was helping dad or something.”

“Tyrion was there?” Brienne said, smiling fondly and relaxing a bit. She had always liked Jaime’s younger brother, despite his wild partying ways and his preference for a very worn out and ragged T-shirt informing everyone that he was ‘the god of tits and wine.’

Jo grinned. “He seems really cool. He told me that we have lots to talk about.”

Brienne smirked. “I think I should be worried about that.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Unless there’s weird stuff about your college years that you haven’t told me, I think you’re safe, mom.” Her beautiful face suddenly became grim, and she looked at Brienne with troubled eyes. “My dad told me…he said that his sister is dead.”

Brienne nodded stiffly, her feelings still in a tangle regarding Cersei Lannister’s death. “I know. He told me that too, sweetheart.”

Jo looked thoughtful. “I guess I should hate her for what she did, but her life seemed pretty miserable, you know?. I mean, I do hate her for lying to you and taking my dad away from us, but...I suppose that in a way I feel sorry for her. She probably never had anyone to love her the same way dad loves you.”

Brienne blushed, looking away from her daughter’s face. “Do you want anything to eat, honey? I have pasta and Alfredo sauce if you want to–”

“He’s desperate to talk to you, mom” Jo interrupted, her face pleading. “Will you give him a chance? Please? He’s so sorry for the stuff he said. I mean he didn’t tell me what he said to you, but his eyes were all watery, and he said that he wants us in his life. Can you please talk to him?”

 _Damn it_ , she thought angrily. _How dare Jaime put Jo in the middle of this_? “Sweetheart, it’s not that simple. There’s too much baggage between us, too many things that I think your father can’t forgive me for. And the last time he was here, we… we didn’t really part on good terms. He was angry when he overheard that Hyle proposed and wouldn’t let me– “ Brienne hastily pressed her lips in a tight line as Jo’s wide green eyes and open mouth told her that she knew nothing about Hyle’s message.

 _Fuck_. She had been so sure Jaime had told her.

“Uncle Hyle _proposed_?” Jo squeaked loudly. “ _When_?”

As Brienne nervously was about to explain everything, Jo shook her head vehemently, giving her mother an unwavering stare. “I knew he was in love with you. I mean, I’ve always kind of...” She suddenly looked at Brienne suspiciously. “Oh gods, did you say _yes_? Is that why you don’t want to talk to Dad? Because you’re marrying _Hyle_?”

“No, Jo!” Brienne exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. Shit! Everything was getting out of hand, and she knew it was all her fault for not addressing this when she should have. “I am _not_ marrying Hyle, sweetheart. I don’t have feelings for him like that. I love your uncle as a friend, Jo. Nothing more.”

Jo’s shoulders slumped and she exhaled loudly in relief. “Well, there’s no problem then, right? You can talk to Dad and you guys can figure things out,” she said excitedly. “You two love each other, and that’s what matters.”

Brienne felt crushed at seeing the hopeful look on Jo’s face. “Honey, I told you before, it’s just not that simple. Sometimes…sometimes love isn’t enough, sweetheart.”

“But that’s the point mom! It _is_ enough! He said he was wrong, that he was an idiot and that he made a mistake. Can’t you just forgive him? I mean, everyone makes mistakes, right? That’s what you’re always telling me. He loves you so much mom, and you love him too, I _know_ you do! Just give him a chance to explain things. Please?” Jo begged, her voice rising in desperation.

Brienne shook her head slowly, not knowing what to say now. She didn’t want to disappoint her daughter, but she also knew that she couldn’t allow her to entertain any false hopes. “Jo, I wish it wasn’t so complicated, but it is. I don’t know if your dad and I can make a relationship between us work. It’s been too many years and…honey, we may not even know each other anymore, not like we used to. You have to understand– ”

Jo interrupted her harshly, giving Brienne a defiant stare. “No, Mom. It’s _not_ complicated. _You’re_ the one that’s screwing up _everything_! Dad’s sorry, he wants to talk to you, he wants to make things right. _You’re_ the one who won’t even give him a break. Why do you have to _always_ be so stubborn?” Jo was practically shouting now, her green eyes flashing with anger. “You always think you’re right, but you’re not! I will _never_ forgive you if you drive him away. And if he leaves, it’s going to be all your fault!”

Brienne was frozen in place, shocked that her daughter was talking to her this way. “Joanna, that’s enough,” she said in a warning voice. “I understand you’re upset, but you do _not_ talk to me this way. You have to–”

“ **No**!” Jo shouted, making her mother jump. “He wants to makes things right and you won’t even let him do it because of your stupid pride!” She grabbed her bag and stood up so abruptly that the chair she was sitting on toppled backwards, crashing loudly on the floor. “If my dad leaves? I’m going with him! And there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me!” Jo gave her a furious look before stomping from the kitchen. Brienne heard the door to Jo’s room slam loudly and the lock turning on the other side.

Brienne’s mouth was hanging open, unable to even formulate an adequate response to her daughter’s outburst. _Jo had never spoken to her like this._ She could have a temper, but she had always been respectful towards Brienne, and had never defied her in any way.

She felt an overwhelming fury rise in her throat like bile _. This is Jaime’s fault_ , she thought angrily, ignoring the twinge of guilt that told her she was being unfair. Before he had shown up in their lives, Jo had never lashed out at her, much less threaten Brienne with any kind of ultimatum.

Brienne cursed out loud, slamming a fist on the table, causing the saltshaker to topple over. She looked at the time, hastily making up her mind of what she must do. It was early enough still, but she was hesitant to leave Jo alone, primarily because of the horrible argument they just had. She texted Catelyn Stark, letting her know that Jo was going to be by herself for a while and could Cat maybe keep an eye on her in case she needed anything?

Catelyn texted back: “ _Of course I will. Everything OK_?”

Brienne replied hurriedly: “ _I’m going to kick Jaime Lannister’s ass._ ”

After a few seconds, Catelyn sent a reply text: “ _Don’t worry about Jo, I’ll go over there and keep her company._ ”

As Brienne was typing back a thank you, her phone pinged with a new message:

“ _Kick him extra hard for me, will you_?”

*******

 

Jaime rubbed his temples wearily, feeling a new migraine coming on. It was either that, or the previous night’s hangover that still hadn’t gone away.

That conversation had to be the most difficult one he’d ever had in his life. He knew there would be hostility, but he wasn’t prepared for everything the man had said to him. However, Jaime knew that if he wanted any chance of making things right with Brienne, he needed to listen and understand where the other man was coming from. It hadn’t been easy, but he hoped that they had perhaps managed to reach some sort of agreement.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, and stared at it for a few minutes. He needed to call Brienne, ask her to meet him so they could talk. Jaime had so much he wanted to say to her, he wasn’t sure he could unscramble everything that was tangled up in his mind, but he didn’t want to wait anymore. He was dialing her number when the doorbell started buzzing non-stop.

“Hold on! _Fuck_ , I heard you already!” he yelled, annoyed. Was this asshole leaning on the doorbell? Hells, one time was enough, especially with his head getting ready to explode.

“I hope you a have a fucking good reason for…” he said as he yanked the door open. His mouth dropped open when he saw Brienne standing there, unmoving with an ugly scowl on her face.

Shit, he knew that look. This wasn’t good.

“Brienne…I was just calling you,” he began tentatively. “I wanted–”

She interrupted him with a harsh voice, tinged with anger. “Can I come in? I need to speak to you.”

“Yes, please, come in,” he said stepping aside as she came through the door. “I’m sorry the place looks so shitty,” Jaime chuckled nervously as he caught her darting a quick glance around the living room. “I just haven’t had time to–”

“Jaime, I’m not here to talk about your ‘shitty’ apartment,” she replied, her voice as unyielding as ice. “I’m here to talk about Jo.”

He gave her a confused look. “If it’s because she was here, Brienne, I’m sorry she didn’t tell you. I said to her that she shouldn’t have lied, but–”

“It’s not about that, Jaime. I don’t have a problem with her being here. She’s your daughter and she has the right to visit you anytime she wants. I would never get in the way of that.” Brienne locked her eyes on his.” But I will _not_ tolerate Jo lashing out at me because you’re feeding her false expectations that you and I are going to be together,” she said in a steely voice. “I don’t know exactly what you told her, but I would really appreciate it if you don’t put any ridiculous notions into my daughter’s head.”

“ _Our_ daughter, Brienne.” Jaime said through gritted teeth, annoyed with her presumption that he would say or do anything to mislead Jo. “I didn’t put any ‘ridiculous notions’ in her head or fed her any lies. She told me that she wants us to talk, and all I told her is that I wanted that too. I said I needed to apologize to you about the things I said, about…everything. I would never hurt Jo, or say anything that would cause her to disrespect you. That’s not my mission here.” He looked at her meaningfully. “And I didn’t tell her about Hyle’s proposal, if you’re worried about that. I didn’t think it was my place to mention it.”

Brienne studied his face cautiously. “I know you didn’t. I was the one that hadn’t told her, and it just slipped out. I just thought that she knew...that maybe... you had said something to her.”

Jaime shook his head grimly. “No.”

Brienne nodded before speaking again, her voice quieter. “Jo’s furious at me right now. She said a lot of harsh things and then locked herself in her room. She won’t talk to me, won’t let me explain.” She looked at him and her eyes softened a bit, giving him a surge of hope. “She’s never talked to me that way before, Jaime. I was…I don’t know. I assumed that maybe you had given her hope that we might…” She sighed loudly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did, and it was wrong of me to come here like this.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Jaime asked gently. “If she’s angry with you, maybe it’ll be better if I speak to her. Is that ok?”

Brienne gave him a small smile. “Of course it’s ok. And truly, I’m so sorry that I assumed…” She hesitated before speaking again. “Jaime, I want to apologize for not telling you about Hyle’s proposal. I should have told you from the beginning, and I’m not excusing myself from that. But we started fighting first, and then…everything that happened afterwards,” she said blushing furiously. “I don’t know why he proposed to me. Hyle and I have always been just friends, I never lied to you about that. I guess all this time he must have been hoping that our friendship would turn into something else. I didn't encourage him, Jaime, at least…I don’t think I did... unless he misinterpreted things. So if that happened, I suppose I’m at fault. But the reason I didn’t tell you is not because I wanted to keep it from you, or because it wasn’t important. I guess…”

She took a deep, tired breath. “I guess I was just so confused about everything that’s happened in the last few days, and I didn’t know how to deal with Hyle’s proposal or how you might react to it. Maybe I thought it was just easier to ignore it, to put it in the back of my mind for a while. I know that’s not an excuse and I was stupid not to tell you, and I’m sorry for that because it wasn’t fair to you or to Hyle…or Jo.” Brienne’s eyes were desperate. “I never wanted to deceive you, Jaime. Please believe that.”

He looked at her with longing, wishing they could lock themselves into a room, just the two of them and forget about everything and everyone else in the world. “I screwed up too, Brienne. I should have listened to what you had to say instead of stupidly storming out the way I did. I just… fuck, I lost it when I heard that message. I thought that maybe there was a chance you would accept him because he’s been there for you in a way that I wasn’t. I was afraid that perhaps for gratitude, you would…”

Brienne stared at him. “I would never marry a man just for gratitude, Jaime.”

He looked at her sheepishly, but feeling incredibly relieved by her words. “I know that. And I was a fool, jumping to ridiculous conclusions. I can’t begin to tell you how very sorry I am about the way I acted.”

Brienne nodded, not saying a word. They looked at each other in silence until she finally moved towards the door. “I better be going,” she said softly. “I left Jo alone at home. Well, not alone really, Catelyn is–”

“Can you stay?” Jaime said interrupting her. “I think there’s a lot more to say, Brienne.”

She looked at him with weary eyes. “Can we talk some other time, Jaime? I’m really tired and I just want…”

“ _Please_ ,” Jaime begged, an edge of cutting desperation in his voice. “Please, Brienne, let’s talk now. I promise I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. I just want to explain things, because I need you to understand…” Jaime’s voice trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Brienne’s face was filled with uncertainty, until she finally gave him a slow nod. “Ok, Jaime. Let’s talk”

He sighed, thanking the Gods that she was still willing to listen. Jaime gestured towards the couch. “Please, sit.”

She shook her head. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

 _This is bad_ , Jaime hopelessly thought to himself, not even wanting to contemplate what would happen if he failed.

Brienne looked at him quizzically, as if trying to read his mind. He wanted to give her a list of reasons why she should give him another chance, but they all seemed so trivial now.

Jaime needed for her to understand. And for that, he needed to tell her the truth.

All of it.

*******

 

“Ever since I started going on assignments, I always asked to be sent to places where other photographers were afraid to go. Places ravaged by war, natural disasters, famine. I requested cities far away from here, where I could be…anonymous because I didn’t want any kind of attachments.” Jaime looked at Brienne, who was listening intently to his words, blue eyes fixed on his. “I’ve had…relationships with a lot of women, but none that lasted or even mattered to me. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I want to tell you about me, about my life. Everything that’s happened while we’ve been apart."

Jaime squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look at her. “It was always about sex, but I think that sometimes… I just needed the company, if only for a few hours. But there was never the desire or the inclination to give anything else.” He inhaled deeply before moving forward with the rest. “I need you to know that I was never dishonest. The women I slept with knew that I had no interest in a relationship beyond a fuck, and I never promised more than that.” He looked at her then, and found himself slowly submerging in her eyes. Guileless blues, looking at him with such gentleness despite the tawdry details of what he was confessing to. Jaime stalled on his next words, knowing that this would be the hardest thing for him to admit to her.

“People often said that I had courage for going to places others wouldn’t dare set foot in. They would look at me with respect, saying they’d be too afraid of getting killed, maimed, or captured by rebels and tortured. They said I was fearless” He gave a bitter laugh, closing his eyes again, suddenly feeling the memories edging way too close. “What I never told anyone, was that courage had nothing to do with the decisions I made, or my willingness to put myself in danger.” Jaime swallowed hard, trying and failing to ignore the lump in his throat. “Because the truth is… I was constantly defying the Stranger to find me and take me with him.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and Jaime wanted so badly to open his eyes and see her face. But he kept them tightly shut, so afraid to look at her right now. Would she think him a coward now?

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel compassion for me; the gods know I don't deserve it. Aside from my work, I really had nothing important in my life besides Tyrion, and that was entirely of my own choosing.” Jaime sighed deeply, feeling almost unbearably tired. “My relationship with my father…you know that we were never close. And Cersei and I hardly even spoke anymore; she only called when she wanted money for drugs. _Fuck_ , when I think about the times I talked to her, and she knew…she knew…” Jaime gritted his teeth, trying to push down the rage that was still there, boiling, only surface deep. “I was so dead inside already, Brienne. I convinced myself that it was better if I were to die instead of someone with a family, a wife, children, friends.” He felt his eyes sting behind closed eyelids. “If I’d known about Jo…I never would have risked my life the way I did.” He took a deep, trembling breath. “If I’d known I had something so beautiful and precious to live for, to fight for. My daughter…and you.”

Jaime finally mustered enough nerve to open his eyes, stealing a look at Brienne’s face. Her lower lip wouldn’t stop trembling, and her eyes were wide and glistening. Jaime stared at her in silence, feeling the little strength he had leaving his body in a torrent. When he could speak again, his voice sounded so low and broken to his ears, that he hardly recognized it as his own.

“That life is not something I want for myself anymore. I’ve made arrangements with the magazine for a permanent position in the office here in the city, which would require minimal traveling.” He looked at her expression of disbelief, and gave her a small smile which quickly faded as he remembered what he must say next.

"The reason I'm telling you about my failure at relationships, about…all the women…is because I need you to understand that in all these years, I’ve never committed myself to one person. My only experience was with _you_ , Brienne. I’m an asshole with words and with my actions, because I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to certain things.”

Jaime could feel his words take a pleading note, but he was desperate for her to realize where he was coming from. “When I heard Hyle proposing in that message, the jealousy I felt blinded me. Because I couldn’t stop the voice telling me that he’s perhaps a better man for you; that he’s been there, with you and Jo, when I wasn’t. Why would you even choose to be with me? A man whose only accomplishment has been running away from place to place, toying recklessly with death and destruction. Why me, if you could have a man who’s dependable, who has been at your side for so long?”

Brienne remained silent, looking at her hands. Jaime felt something akin to panic at her lack of response, thinking that he had made a big mistake; that he never should have told her any of this, because it made him look more like an impulsive, selfish and irresponsible fool. But then she looked at him, and he saw that she was trying to control her tears.

“Because he’s been by my side _as a friend_ ; because I’m not in love with him, and I’ve never _been_ in love with him,” Brienne said in a trembling voice. “Because I already told you that I would never marry anyone just for gratitude.” She gave him a withering stare. “I really thought you knew me better than that, Jaime.”

He didn’t know what to say to her now that could possibly begin to fix this mess that existed now between them. “Brienne, please,” he began uncertainly. “I just want you to understand that–”

“ _Understand_ what?” she asked, abruptly cutting him off. “That you don’t trust me enough to know that I never would have slept with you if I were even considering marrying another man? That you risked your life constantly, and never cared whether you lived or died? That you can’t get it through your head that I fucking _love you_ , that in fifteen years I could never get over you? That the night we spent together was the first time I actually felt happy with someone other than my daughter? Is that what I should _understand_ , Jaime?”

Her tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, and she angrily brushed them away. Brienne stood perfectly still, not saying anything else, her breath coming in shallow gulps. When she spoke again, it was barely a whisper of rushed words, her previous anger evaporating in a rush, her voice filled with regret. “It was my fault, wasn’t it? Everything was _my_ fault! I shouldn’t have believed Cersei, I should have tried harder to find you. You…you wanted to die, and it was all because I left, and I don’t know how I would have lived knowing that something had happened to you, if you had…if you had…”

“No!” Jaime closed the distance between them, and hastily took her in his arms, praying over and over in his head that she would let him hold her. “Don’t you dare _think_ that this was your fault, Brienne. _Cersei_ did this, not me, not you. You were the victim of my sister’s lies and her hatred only because you loved me. “He held her tighter, so afraid that she would push him away. Jaime could feel her heart pounding as loudly as his own, could almost taste the salt of her tears. He felt her hands climb tentatively, shakily, to his shoulders. She wound her arms around his neck slowly, almost shyly, and he could feel her warm breath feathering his hair. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other, neither wanting to let go just yet. Jaime was the first to step back, looking into her eyes as he spoke.

“I wish that I could say something that would take away this pain from both of us, and it kills me that I can’t. But I need to tell you this, and I hope with everything I have that you believe me.” He swallowed hard, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. “ _I love you_ , Brienne. I love you more now than we first met, and I never in my wildest dreams thought that was possible. All these years, I tried to bury my love for you, and I lived furious at myself that those feelings refused to go away, even after I thought you abandoned me. I will always hate myself for believing Cersei’s lies, but I don’t want to live in the past anymore.” He reached for her, brushing her hair away from her face, enjoying the blush that began to spread slowly around her cheeks. He moved closer. “I want you to know that I _do_ trust you. I would have trusted you with my life when we met, and even more so now. I’m sorry that my thoughtless actions made you doubt that.”

She didn’t step away from him, but made no move to get closer, and Jaime hoped she wasn’t already regretting the embrace they'd just shared. “That night, everything I said to you, everything we did, that was _real_ , Brienne. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. For the first time in a long time I have something in my life to live for: you and our daughter. Please, I’m just asking that you give me a chance to make amends, a chance for us to be together.”

He saw her hesitate, and Jaime braced himself for what she would say next. He had never been more afraid than he was now, not even in the nightmare of the many wars he had witnessed. Nothing frightened him more than this; standing in the looming shadow of her possible rejection.

She sighed deeply, nervously folding and unfolding her hands. “I want to believe you, Jaime. You have no idea how much. But I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to handle my friendship with Hyle and not see it as a threat.” Her voice was resolute, firm in her conviction, but Jaime breathed with relief. He was ready for this objection, and if that was her only argument, he was prepared to fight it.

Brienne continued on. “I’m not removing him from our lives just because you can’t see him as something other than competition.” Jaime opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand, stopping him. “I know he asked me to marry him, but we’ve already talked and he knows I don’t love him as anything more than a friend. It doesn’t mean that because I rejected him our friendship is over. He’s still my best friend and I can’t―”

He interrupted her gently, taking her hand and thanking the Seven when she didn’t snatch it away. “I talked to Hyle, Brienne.”

She gaped at him. “You what?”

“I asked Jo to give me his phone number, and I called him so we could meet and talk.”

Brienne looked at him, unsettled. “You didn’t call to insult him or to tell him–”

Jaime frowned at her. “No, I didn’t call to insult him. Truthfully, I called to thank him.”

 

*******

 

**_Earlier that day_ **

 Wolf’s Diner was usually a quiet place following the breakfast rush. The only noise that could be heard were freshly washed plates clattering inside the back of the kitchen as Jaime waited impatiently for Hyle Hunt to arrive.

Feeling anxious, he showed up a half hour early and seated himself in the booth he and Brienne always favored when they were in college. Working on his second cup of coffee, he passed the time going through multiple emails on his phone. Mildly pleased by the slow progress he was making, Jaime managed to whittle down the unread messages down to a respectable tally of a several dozen, still left unread. He didn’t hear the bell chime in the entryway, but as he now glanced to the side, a well-dressed man was approaching the booth. Jaime was surprised, taking in his attire; Hyle had certainly upgraded his wardrobe from the ratty pissed-off rock band t-shirts he used to favor in the past.

Jaime stared at him, his green eyes scrutinizing. “Is this ok, or do you want to go to another booth?” he asked, not bothering with a greeting.

Hunt’s demeanor started to hover over Jaime like a dark, threatening cloud. Dressed in a well-tailored charcoal suit, paired with a crisp white shirt and a royal blue tie, Jaime had no doubt that Hyle was dressed in this ‘power suit’ for confidence.

“Here’s fine,” Hyle answered stiffly.

Motioning for him to take a seat across from him, Jaime couldn’t help noticing that Hyle looked uncomfortable as he held back his tie and scooted across the squeaky vinyl cushion.

Jaime offered a polite smile. “Thanks for coming out here to meet. I just thought we could--”

Avoiding eye contact with him, Hyle sighed as he scrolled through his phone before setting it on mute. “Is this going to take long? I have a lunch meeting up town in about an hour, so...”

Jaime’s voice lingered for a moment, slightly annoyed by the interruption. As Hyle tucked his phone into his coat pocket, Jaime cleared his throat before hiding the scowl on his face behind a placating smirk.

“No. It doesn't have to.”

Satisfied, Hyle adjusted the cuffs tucked into his coat sleeves before he folded both hands on the table, glaring at Jaime for a long time in silence. He could perceive with perfect clarity that the only thing Hunt’s eyes could see when they looked at him, was the man who had broken Brienne’s heart.

Finally, Hyle spoke with an eerily calm voice.

“Had someone told me that one day I’d be sitting here to meet with _you_ after all these years…” The fire in Hyle’s voice started to gutter out with a bitter laugh while he visibly struggled to unclench his hands coiled up on the table with tight fists. Jaime felt the tension and anger loom between them, obscuring each other like the swallows of a dense fog.

Spearing his fingers through his hair, Jaime cleared his throat again, not really sure that this meeting had been a good idea after all.

“Look, Hyle…” he said struggling, almost stammering on his words. “The reason why I wanted to meet with you is not to start a fight. I asked you here because…” He took a deep breath before finally blurting out, “Fuck, I asked you here because I want to say thank you.”

Hyle’s eyebrows flinched in a startled look, while Jaime continued. “I mean it. I want to tell you how grateful I am for everything that you’ve done… being there for Brienne when she was pregnant; taking care of Jo when Brienne was finishing her degree; all of the times you--”

Hunt adjusted his tie, shifting uncomfortably. Jaime’s mind sought to find the right words that he needed to say, raising up both palms with a solemn air of surrender. He wanted the other man to understand that he wasn’t here to berate him with the knowledge that Brienne wasn’t in love with him. Jaime was certain Hyle knew that well enough.

“I know you don’t want to hear this from me, but it’s something I have to be clear with you about; Brienne and I are still in love. Despite everything, that love never went away, Hyle. We had _fifteen years_ stolen from us, years we could’ve spent making a life together, raising our daughter.” Jaime swallowed hard. “I want you to know that if I was in any way sure that Brienne had any feelings for you, I would have gladly stepped aside so you could be together. I would’ve centered everything on just being here for Jo, and if Brienne wanted to be with you, I wouldn’t have gotten in the way of that.”

Hunt’s eyes locked onto Jaime’s with a venomous look. Jaime leaned his head across the table and lowered his voice with a cautioning tone. “But we're still in love with each other, and I’m not going to leave her or Jo. Ever.”

Jaime paused once he watched Hunt’s face clam up with cynical eyes and a presumptive nod of the head. Dreading to hear his thoughts, Jaime waited patiently as Hyle’s mouth started to screw up with a painful look of disgust.

“Is that the reason why you wanted to meet in this greasy shit hole? You wanted to ‘thank’ me and to tell me that you’re still in love with Brienne?” Hyle’s tone was filled with mockery. “Here’s the thing, Jaime. You might think you’re riding the truce train right now, but we both know why we’re really here. So do me a favor and cut the bullshit because unlike you, I show respect for other people by not wasting their time.”

Jaime’s expression paled with rising anger, as Hyle continued with a snarky pinch to his face. “I know you heard my proposal to Brienne the other night. I know because she already told me, so let’s forgo the false pleasantries and let’s get down to brass tacks, ok?”

Jaime’s mind raced for an argument as Hyle bulldozed through his defense with a sour look.

“No. You know what? Before I tell you _why_ I proposed to Brienne, let me ask you this--and I want you to look me dead in the eye and tell me the truth: do you even _want_ to be a father?”

Jaime was mute with fury, afraid that if he uttered a single word, he would lunge at Hyle Hunt and beat the living shit out of him.

“I’m not talking about Jo’s paternity here, that’s immaterial,” Hunt continued relentlessly. "Men who abandon their children are nothing more than sperm donors, at best. They don’t deserve the privilege to call themselves fathers. To me, being a father is not some sort of inalienable right.”

Jaime’s face was hard as stone, while Hyle’s tone gradually ebbed.

“I know you see me as nothing more than a pathetic, love-sick puppy who was always, and still is, trailing behind Brienne. But the truth is…” Hyle sighed visibly struggling with painful memories while Jaime stoically watched.

“A couple of years ago, I was in a relationship with someone. We’d talked about marriage, but then we just decided to go ahead and start a family. She really wanted to be a mother, and I couldn’t wait to have kids of my own. For six months we tried, and nothing. Then, a single trip to the doctor turns into a battery of tests and a referral to the specialist. Before you know it, I'm handed a sheet of paper that tells me I’m shooting blanks, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Jaime’s face coiled up in reluctant sympathy for Hyle as he continued his story. “Then three weeks later, she left me. Told me that she couldn’t be in a relationship with a man who was incapable of giving her children. This was the woman who once told me that we made a great team, that we were perfect for each other.” Hunt snorted with disdain. “She was always jealous of my friendship with Brienne and my commitment to Jo, which didn’t help once she knew I was infertile”

Jaded eyes finally landed on Jaime. Boring into his green eyes, Hyle glared at Jaime with a challenge on his face.

“I’m not an idiot, Lannister. I know I don’t have a shot with Brienne, I know very well that she doesn’t love me,” Hyle’s voice turned cynical. “You _do_ know she was in a relationship some years ago, right?” He smiled triumphantly when he saw the tight expression on Jaime’s face. “It was pretty serious for a while. But the guy didn’t want kids, much less kids that weren’t his. The asshole was always annoyed that Brienne always put Jo first. So she finally broke it off.”

Hyle’s voice softened again, his eyes looking straight at Jaime. “I’ve known for a long time she only loves me as a friend, and I have no illusions otherwise anymore. But whether you like it or not, ever since she was born, Jo has been like a daughter to me; she’s the only reason I wanted to become a father to begin with.” Hyle threw Jaime a cutting grin. “And now here you sit, floating back into their lives like the piece of shit you are. What the fuck were you expecting, Jaime? To be a father now? You’re nothing more than a casual bystander whose ass is planted on the bleachers. For fifteen years, you’ve known nothing about Jo, and now you think you can elbow your way into the kid’s life?”

He angrily opened his mouth to speak, but Hunt wasn’t giving him an inch. “Brienne and I are just friends, but the way I see it, some of the strongest marriages were built on friendships. I know my proposal probably sounds desperate to you, and I know that I have no legal rights over Joanna, but for fifteen years, I’ve done nothing but love her like she was my own flesh and blood.” Hyle’s voice rattled with obvious heartbreak.

Jaime’s anger dissolved with a gradual clarity. He realized that Hyle’s marriage proposal wasn’t because of some unrequited love he felt for Brienne. It was about making certain he’d always be a part of Joanna’s life. The man had cared for Jo like she was his own child, and now Jaime’s presence threatened to take that away from him. Wiping at the corners of his eyes, Hyle took a cleansing breath and waved a dismissive hand over the table.

“Explain this to me: Brienne told me the whole story of how your sister lied to you, and conversely, how your sister lied to _her_. But what I fail to understand is how you could even believe that she would disappear without any kind of explanation. I know you’ve accused her of giving up on you; Brienne told me as much. But now I’m asking you: why did you give up on her?”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Finally, Jaime looked stolidly at Hyle before speaking with dull eyes and a monotone voice.

“I tried, Hyle. After I was finally able to leave Skagos, I came back to Westeros to find her. This was after Cersei had already told me that Brienne was gone. I went to the student’s services office at school, and they said that she had withdrawn. I _tried_ , I looked everywhere, asked everyone who knew her.” Jaime looked pointedly at Hyle. “I even looked for _you_ , but your roomate said you had gone back home, and I didn’t know where ‘home’ was. Caitlyn Stark was my last hope, but they told me she was on vacation. I had no way of contacting her.” Jaime shook his head, remembering. “I went to Tarth, to Evenfall. But the neighbors said the house was empty, that it was being sold. So…I gave up. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jaime sighed deeply, his energy already diminished by the painful memories of that terrible time, the memory of losing Brienne. “Cersei was a lot of things. An addict, a vain and vindictive person with complete disregard for anyone except herself. But she was still my sister, and unlike our father, I felt that I had to support her each time she relapsed and ended up back in rehab. I was the only one there whenever she’d start using again. She was sick, and all I wanted was to protect her. And yes, I was naive. She was... possessive of me. Cersei knew how to manipulate me, and when I was at my most vulnerable, she sank in her claws and went straight for the jugular, knowing that like an idiot, I wouldn’t suspect a thing.”

Hyle’s face displayed a brief hint of compassion as he listened to Jaime’s story. He continued with a voice mired by self-doubt. “I was a fool to trust her,” Jaime shrugged helplessly, “but she was my twin. Our father always gave us the same tired speech: family first.” He laughed bitterly. “Ironic, isn’t it? While I fought to keep my family together, my _sister_ out of trouble, I unknowingly threw away the only family I ever wanted. The family I should have had with Brienne and my daughter.”

Rubbing his fingers over the stubble of his jaw, Jaime glanced out of the diner windows, hesitating at what he had to say next.

“I haven’t told Brienne this, and I would appreciate it if you don’t mention to her what I’m about to tell you. I _will_ tell her, in time. But I want it to come from me, not from somebody else.” Jaime fixed Hyle with a cold stare, and the other man nodded curtly.

 “Two weeks into my internship, our team covered a protest demonstration in Skagos following a drone strike that took the lives of thirty-two civilians. During the trip back to the base, our convoy was ambushed by an IED, followed by a roadside artillery attack. Eighteen people lost their lives that day; fifteen soldiers and three journalists. For years, whenever people heard about it, they keep telling me how lucky I was to survive.

“When the insurgents rained down fire on us... all I could do was think of Brienne. And to be honest with you, at that moment, I didn’t even give a shit if I lived or died. I had such an unbearable feeling of regret, and I knew then that I hadn’t done enough to find her. A medic must have felt sorry for me, because he was kind enough to loan me his satphone. I called my sister and begged her one more time to look for Brienne, but Cersei told me what I already knew; that she had disappeared, and no one had any clue to her whereabouts. My sister convinced me she had done everything she could, but had no news to give me. And there I was--just a stupid kid from a privileged, broken family--sitting on top of a blood-soaked gurney, getting a dozen stitches on the back of my scalp with the blood and brains of a dead soldier splattered over my chest… a soldier, who proudly showed me pictures of his newborn son earlier that day.”

A slow look of pain manifested itself on Hyle’s face, while Jaime softly continued.

“I had to see a therapist after that. I had nightmares for months, about the explosion, that soldier’s face. In the middle of everything, I couldn’t stop thinking that the woman I loved had vanished from my life for good. I swear I would have traded places with that soldier in a _second_ , Hyle. I had nothing to live for anymore, while that man had a wife, a _child_. What right did I have to be alive instead of him? I was nothing. I _had_ nothing.”

He was shaking, and neither of them spoke for a long time. After a minute of awkward reflection, both men remained seated in the vinyl booth with forlorn looks on their faces and an uncomfortable silence that threatened to bring them closer together with understanding. Hyle kept his eyes fixed on his fingers as he spoke with a soft, almost brotherly tone.

“Look Jaime, at the end of the day, you can either hate me all you want or don’t. But I won’t apologize for being there when Brienne desperately needed someone at her side. I understand now that you got fucked over. But try pulling your head out of your ass for a second and realize that you’re not the only casualty in this war. Brienne got fucked over too.” Locking eyes onto Hyle, Jaime nodded, his mouth screwed up in reluctant agreement as Hunt continued. “I can’t tell you how many days I spent with her crying in my arms because she didn’t understand why you didn’t love her anymore. I can’t tell you because I lost count.”

Jaime looked away, closing his eyes at the image of Brienne crying because she thought he had abandoned her.

Hyle spoke again. “Yes, I’ll admit that I was completely in love with her once, and some of those feelings haven’t entirely gone away. If she’d change her mind and have me, you better believe that I’d marry her so damn fast it would make your head spin.” Jaime looked up, his expression conveying nothing, but his hands tightly gripped the edge of the booth. “I know that she’ll never love me like she loves you,” Hyle’s voice trembled slightly, “I accept that. But all I'm asking is to be part of Brienne and Jo’s lives. I know you have more rights than I do, but the three of us have been a family of sorts for a long time. It’s not something that’s going to go away just because you’re back.”

He assented slowly, a thoughtful expression mapped on his face. Seemingly satisfied, Hyle checked the watch on his wrist and winced when he saw the time. “Damn, I need to get going.” Jaime waved a hand in understanding, feeling somewhat relieved that this conversation was finally over. Standing from the booth, Hyle smoothed out his suit jacket and turned around, pausing in front of Jaime.

“In all the years I’ve known Brienne, not once have I ever made her suffer like you did. However, only for her sake and Jo's I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here. But if you ever hurt her, I want you to know that I will beat the living hells out of you. Do you understand me?”

Jaime looked at Hyle and smirked. Apparently, the guy had finally decided to grow a pair. But fuck it if Jaime was going to grant him the upper hand.

“Yeah, I understand,” he said in a calm voice. But when Hyle turned to leave, Jaime gripped Hunt’s arm, speaking in a slow, intimidating tone.

“But I need _you_ to understand _me_ when I tell you that if you keep harassing Brienne to marry you, or if you get in the way of my relationship with her and my daughter, you’ll be nothing more than a faded picture on a missing person flyer with concert posters stapled over your face.” Jaime smiled, the picture of a lion ready to strike as he released Hyle’s arm. “Did I make _myself_ clear?”

He nodded, staring at Jaime with hard eyes, his mouth tightened in a grim line. Readjusting the cufflinks to his shirt, Hunt gestured a farewell with his head as he walked away from the booth.

“Hyle…”

Hunt stopped in his tracks before he could approach the door leading out of the diner. Slowly turning his head to the side, he glanced at Jaime in profile as he waited.

“Jo told me that she wants to start having Sunday dinners together as a family,” Hyle waited in tense silence before Jaime continued, “It would mean a lot to her and Brienne if you could join us.” Jaime looked at him, weighing his expression. “If you’re not busy, of course.”

Hyle studied Jaime’s face with a detached look before giving him a small nod. “I’d like that,” he replied in a low voice. He briefly turned around all the way, and looked at Jaime with an expression that was something akin to a begrudging respect.

As Hunt made his way down towards the subway station, Jaime followed his path from his seat in the diner with a reluctant smile.  

 

*******

 

Brienne stared at him, her eyebrows raised in perplexity. “You actually _told_ Hyle that he would be ‘nothing more than a faded picture on a missing person flyer?’

Jaime smirked, while simulating annoyance. “You did hear what he said to _me_ , right? It’s not everyday that someone gets to threaten me with bodily harm and just walks away. I think I was exceedingly polite and well-behaved, wouldn’t you say?”

Brienne pressed her lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. “Yes, ‘exceedingly polite’ describes you perfectly, Jaime Lannister. You should have that engraved somewhere.”

He smiled softly. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

Jaime almost wept when he felt her fingers softly squeezing his own. “It must have been very hard to tell him…about…everything,” she said, still upset at the revelations of his willfulness to put his life in danger.

He looked at her, feeling so incredibly happy just with holding her hand. “Hyle needed to know. I wanted him to know everything, or at least everything that mattered.”

She gazed tenderly at him. “I’m glad you talked to him, Jaime. He's a good man.”

He began stroking the top of her hand with his thumb rhythmically, back and forth, enjoying the softness of her milky skin. “I understand that. And I can live with having him in you and Jo’s lives.” Jaime said, smiling weakly at her. “But forgive me if I don’t want to talk about Hyle anymore. I want to talk about us.” He squeezed her hand. “Can you give me another chance?”

She removed her hand from his, and he immediately mourned the loss of her touch. “I’m just...I'm so scared right now, Jaime because all I think about is how I felt when you left.” She crossed her arms protectively in front of her chest, looking down at her feet. “All the pain, not knowing if what we had was real, or if it was something I just imagined. I never want to feel like that again. I can’t…I can’t risk myself, and I can’t risk Jo.”

Jaime stared at her, his emerald eyes blazing. “Everything we had then and what we have now is real, Brienne. Cersei fucked us up, but it was always real. _We_ were real. All I’m asking is for you to trust me. Can you have faith in us, not in who we were fifteen years ago, but in us now?”

Brienne seemed uncertain at his words. But then she looked straight into his eyes and took a step towards him, her stunning eyes shining bright with new determination.

“ _Show me_ ,” she whispered, now standing only a hair breath away. “ _Show me that it’s real_.”

Jaime nodded silently, his hand reaching out towards her face and cupping her cheek. Never taking his eyes away from her, he gave her a sly smile as he went down on one knee, relishing the unmistakable confusion on her face much more than he ought to have done.

Brienne stared at him with wide eyes, the words falling clumsily from her lips. “Jaime…what…what are you doing? I don’t…I don’t…”

He smirked up at her. “Don’t tell me you’re _confused_ , Tarthy? And all these years, I actually thought you were the smartest person in that entire school.” Brienne laughed loudly, raising one hand towards her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound, her eyes shining with newfound mirth.

Jaime feigned irritation at her reaction, but the playfulness in his eyes gave away the true exhilaration he was feeling at listening to her laughter. ”Can I talk now, wench? This position is not very comfortable for an old man, and I have to say, you’re spoiling my entire speech here.”

Brienne snorted and held up her hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. I’m sorry… _Grandpa_.”

“Oh, I’ll get you for that,” Jaime said with mocking threat. But his face turned serious as he reached for Brienne’s hand again. He could see her eyes watering as she looked down at him, a soft shaky smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

He spoke solemnly, intently. “Brienne Tarth. Fifteen years ago, I thought I lost you, certain that I would never see you again. Since then, I’ve never really lived. Instead, I merely existed through each day like it was a burden on me, an unwanted task. But when I heard your voice on the phone in that subway station, I suddenly remembered what it was like to be alive again.” He smiled at her, loving her so much and so intensely that it was almost painful. “Because of you, I have a wonderful, intelligent, and beautiful daughter, which I’ll never be grateful enough for. I barely managed to survive when I thought I would never get you back. But now that I have, I can’t let you walk away from me.”

Brienne looked down at him, her quiet tears giving way to a loud sob. She slowly sank down to her knees in front of him, stretching a hand towards Jaime and tenderly caressing his face, now wet with tears of his own.

“I love you,” she murmured, touching her forehead to his.

“I’m glad,” he said teasingly, smirking at her scowl. He inched closer to her, running a thumb over her plump bottom lip. “May I kiss you, my lady?” he whispered.

Brienne smiled widely, despite barely being able to speak. He could tell by that smile that she was remembering the many nights they had spent in their dusty corner of the library, discussing old tales of knights and fair maidens as they kissed, caressed and loved each other between open pages of history.

Now they had a chance to write their own story.

“I would be very disappointed if you didn’t, my lord,” she whispered back, her eyes speaking of hope and reawakened dreams.

He leaned forward, touching his lips to hers. It was a gentle dance at first; a slow re-acquaintance of their bodies as they recognized and sought each other, experimentally teasing. But then Jaime deepened the kiss, and Brienne’s mouth eagerly opened under his encouragement, their tongues dancing softly, playfully and after a while, fervidly.

As they kissed, Jaime turned the ring that had once belonged to his mother gently around in his jeans pocket, closing it around his palm and withdrawing it slowly.

The sapphire glinted brightly under the soft overhead lights of the ceiling, its gleam the evidence of a love that was strong enough to try anew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally come full circle for Brienne, Jaime and Jo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we’ve reached the end of the line.  
> I have to admit that the epilogue almost didn’t happen. I was terribly uninspired to write this ending, and I was almost tempted to change the chapter numbers to 9, and just have the story finish with Brienne and Jaime kissing, and the spotlight on the engagement ring.  
> But oh, my co-authors weren’t having it. They both offered to write either beginning, middle or end, whichever was causing me problems.  
> What if every part was causing me problems? I felt also that the story started with me writing it alone, and that was how it should end.  
> I know, stubborn af.  
> So I sat down Monday and jotted a draft in one haul and then Tuesday I did the rest also in haul.  
> I sent it to Lux and CT, and they proclaimed it wasn’t the stinking pile of trash I thought it was.  
> Three edits later, this is what we have ☺  
> For better or for worse, I give you the epilogue of Pieces of You. It’s written in kind of vignette form, which…  
> Nah, I’ll let you see for yourselves ☺  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> P.S. An unexpected character (or two) make an appearance ;)

Joanna Lannister-Tarth walked through the crowd with a frown and a hurried pace. Her list of things to do was a mile long, but she didn't want to put this off any longer.

As she dodged people rushing by her on their way home, Jo looked at her watch and picked up speed, making a mental note of the birthday cake she had been asked to pick up from the bakery.

Her parents had been married only a year, even though her father had proposed almost two years ago. But her mom wanted to wait, patiently explaining that they didn’t need to rush things, and that it was better to ease into things gradually. Her dad had been less than pleased, but he had ultimately agreed to Brienne’s wishes and had only complained every other day or so.

Jo smiled to herself, thinking that her father was always adamant to see her mom happy, and she loved that Jaime succeeded in achieving that nearly every day.

Not that there hadn't been difficult times since her parents had finally reunited. The three of them hadn't lived together right away, part of Brienne's plan of 'taking things slow.' Instead, they took turns shuffling from Jaime's spacious apartment, to the smaller one Jo shared with her mother. After eight months, her parents had decided it was the right time for them to live together as a family under just one roof. Now they only had to resolve the issue of _which_ roof they were going to choose.

Heated debates had taken place for weeks about whose house they would move into. In the end, Jaime and Brienne decided to give up both apartments and look for the perfect place that all of them would approve of.

Jo was glad they had decided upon her choice: a spacious loft-style residence in which she could have the farthest room in the house, far away from her parents’ bedroom. She had learned this lesson the hard way, after hearing their very loud and enthusiastic tussles, which had forced her to sleep with headphones on every single night. Under the covers, Jo wished repeatedly for a quick death.

 _Talk about childhood trauma_.

And it wasn't just late at night when she had to shield herself from Jaime and Brienne’s frequent displays of affection. One time, Jo had come home earlier than usual, and looking at something on her phone, had made her way quietly to the kitchen. When she looked up, she’d seen her dad standing very close behind her mom, whispering in Brienne's ear, whose face and neck were burning in a bright shade of red, similar to the one she acquired when out in the sun too long, her eyes closed and her neck turning from side to side so she could meet Jaime’s lips. As Jo foolishly peered closer, she saw her father's hand climbing surreptitiously inside her mother's shirt, while Brienne had slowly reached behind her, purposefully rubbing the front of her dad’s pants.

Jo had prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

She had backed away slowly from the kitchen and headed towards the front door again, not making a sound. Then she had slammed it open, pretending to come inside for the first time and yelling a very loud greeting to her parents. Brienne called from the kitchen, and when Jo walked in, she saw her parents standing several feet away from each other, her dad turned slightly away sitting at the kitchen table, a newspaper placed on his lap, while her mother had smiled nervously at her, the redness in her face even more intense. Jo had stood in the doorway, not looking at either parent in the eye and mumbling that she had a book to read for a class. She had bid a hasty retreat from the kitchen, swearing to herself that she would never again come inside the house without loudly announcing herself.

 _Who knows what she was likely to see next time if she didn’t_?

She often teased her parents that they were always touching, kissing and holding each other, way more than she saw any of her friends’ parents doing. Brienne had looked at her with a sad smile before saying in a soft voice that perhaps those people didn’t have fifteen years to make up for like they did. Jo felt immediately contrite, knowing that her mother was right and from that moment on, had tried her best not to complain or vex them too much about being so openly effusive. 

 

***

As Jo tried to walk faster, she thought about growing up for almost her whole life with only her mom. Brienne had truly been the greatest mother anyone could ever want, if only a bit too watchful of her only daughter. But now that Jo was also living with her father, she realized that it was Jaime the one with an overly protective streak that surpassed even Brienne’s strict vigilance. Much to Jo's horror, her dad had often embarrassed her with boys who picked her up on dates. Like when Gendry Waters had asked her out.

They were both involved with the photography club, and had rapidly become good friends—at least, Jo thought that was all it was until Gendry invited her to a photography exhibit downtown. He was tall with thick black hair and dark blue eyes; a cute guy, but Jo wasn’t really into him. But she really couldn’t refuse his stammering invitation, because even though he wasn’t her type, it was nice and sweet of him to think of wanting to bring her to the exhibit. Besides, she was actually excited at the possibility of learning a new technique or two and to see some awesome photos with someone who appreciated them like she did.

Gendry of course, knew who her father was. Jaime had taught a few photography classes for the club, and Jo had been insanely proud as she listened to him talking about his experiences and all the places he had been. She hoped that someday she could follow in his footsteps.

That night, Gendry had shown up at her house so they could walk to the gallery together. She was still deciding between an ice-blue sweater or a dark green one, when she heard the doorbell. Cursing under her breath, she opened her bedroom door and shouted, "Pleeeeease Dad! Tell him I'm almost ready, ok?"

Her father had shouted back that he would, so Jo picked the green sweater and hurriedly pulled it on. She braided her hair, hastily applied her makeup, and made her way towards the living room. As she approached, she had heard Jaime and Gendry speaking, her feet skidding to a halt.

“Well, I hope to do more or less what you've done, sir." Gendry was saying. He wasn’t stammering but Jo thought he sounded strangely shy. She leaned against the wall to listen. "I'm really interested in traveling and getting to see things beyond this place, you know?"

Jaime had nodded in agreement. “There’s a whole different world outside of Westeros, yes,” he replied. Jo risked peeking through the gap between the door and the wall, and saw that Gendry was shifting his weight from one foot to the other while her dad stood firm, the expression on his face assessing. _Uh-oh_ , Jo had thought with concern.

Then Jaime spoke, his voice quiet and soft, and she watched as Gendry leaned closer to hear him better.

"You know, I've spent my life traveling to places you probably haven't even heard of. Astapor, Yunkai, Slaver’s Bay.” Her father looked at Gendry straight in the eye. "The great thing about that is the people you meet. For example, I remember when I was in Quarth and I got the opportunity to ride with the army there. I especially enjoyed my time with the sniper team. The most loyal group of men I’ve ever known."

Gendry nodded, looking eager for the advice that her dad was about to share. But Jaime paused, and continued to stare at Gendry as if deciding where he should hit him the hardest. Jo wondered if the best thing would be to make her presence felt, but to his credit, Gendry seemed to quickly realize that career advice was not exactly what Jaime was going to give him and began to move away. Jo glared at her father through the gap she was spying through. She knew all too well how Jaime’s words could slice people into ribbons, and that when he looked at someone the way he was now looking at Gendry, it meant he was savoring a kill.

He often looked at Uncle Hyle in the exact same way.

"Son, I really want you and my daughter to have a great time tonight. I trust you to take care of her.” Jaime stepped closer to Gendry. “This is what I expect from you, and I have no doubt that _you will do it_.”

Jo rolled her eyes. _Gods,_ _her dad was so antiquated_. Like she couldn't take care of herself!

Jaime put an arm around Gendry’s shoulders, and Jo saw with dismay that her friend jumped back a bit. “You look like a nice guy, Gendry” her dad said, with what seemed to be tone dripping with false friendliness. “I believe that you _don’t_ want to disappoint me by proving that my assessment of you is wrong. So just let me be clear, son: if my daughter comes home tonight with so much as a hair out of place…well… I know people. People who are _loyal to me_ , who will make you disappear. . . “Jaime suddenly snapped his fingers in front of Gendry’s eyes. “Just like that. _Do we understand each other, Gendry?”_

Gendry had nodded furiously, obviously scared out of his wits, and grateful when Jo had finally appeared abruptly in the living room. Jaime smiled warmly at her, and gave Gendry a friendly pat on the shoulder again. Her friend couldn’t get out of the house fast enough, his knee hitting the edge of the coffee table. He mumbled that he was okay before hobbling out, looking over his shoulder at Jaime. Before Jo followed him, she shot her father a murderous look, but he continued to smile innocently at her as he waved goodbye at them. “Have fun, sweetheart,” he said, in a singsong voice.

The next morning, Jo had loudly complained to Brienne about her dad's behavior, and her mother had promised to talk to Jaime about making inappropriate threats to every boy Jo went out with. Then she had looked at Jo with her gentle blue eyes, and said softly, "Honey, I know it's frustrating to have him be so overbearing all the time. But Jo, you have to understand that he never had a chance to be a father to you. Your dad didn't see you grow up, and he missed so many moments..." That was still a sore subject between her parents, Jo knew. "Just...give him a little break, ok? He just wants to protect you, that's all."

Jo had nodded, feeling incredibly sad that her father felt the need to try so hard. She made her way to the makeshift studio Jaime had added when they first bought the loft. He was looking at some prints of a recent assignment in High Garden, beaming when he saw her, waving her over so he could show her what he was doing. Jo had felt such an upwelling of love for him, that she had suddenly hugged Jaime tight and whispered, "I love you, Daddy."

His look of surprise soon gave way to a smile and emerald eyes filled with deep emotion and gratitude. "I love you too sweetheart," her dad had said. "You have no idea how much."

 

***

Jo rapidly became annoyed as she tried to increase her speed despite the sea of people coming out of office buildings who were apparently intent on slowing her down. Fuck, why couldn’t they just _move_? She took a deep breath knowing that her height and long legs gave her a certain advantage, but it was still frustrating to be stuck in pedestrian traffic. Jo noticed a lot of people stopping to stare at her, which was nothing she wasn’t used to. Being a girl and six feet tall often drew attention, but it generally didn’t bother her much. If others were intimidated by her height, that was their problem. Her dad repeated this to both Jo and her mother frequently, always pausing to whisper in Brienne’s ear that her beautiful legs were one of her many attributes. Jo couldn’t help but laugh at her mom’s embarrassed face, while she gave Jaime a chastising look.

But she knew that her mother adored her dad, especially when he did something unexpected that he knew would please her. Jo remembered the time her parents had organized a dinner at home and invited some people from the magazine where Jaime worked, including his new assistant Pia. When they had all sat at the table, he had made a point of placing her uncle Hyle (who had been surprised at Jaime’s invitation) swiftly next to Pia.

They had talked to each other all through dinner, and well after that. When Brienne had seen Pia give Hyle her phone number, she had turned to Jaime and said with a knowing smile, “You planned all this, didn’t you?”

He had given her a mocking innocent look, saying, “Planned what, wench? I simply arranged to have them next to each other.” He winked at her mother. “Let’s just say I had a hunch.”

Jo was aware that her mom wasn’t too keen on being called ‘wench’ in front of other people, least of all in front of Jo. This time though, Brienne had shaken her head, cupped his face, and kissed him lovingly on the lips. “Deep down Jaime Lannister, you are a hopeless romantic,” she joked.

Jaime had kissed her back, looking deep into her eyes. “Not so hopeless. I’m in love with _you_ , aren’t I?”

Jo remembered with affection Brienne’s beaming face, her tall form happy and relaxed in her dad’s arms, and thinking it was the greatest thing she had ever seen.

 

***

Among the many changes in her life since her dad had become part of her world, had been Jo’s decision to take her dad’s last name. Her mom had been grading essays while her father had scowled at the computer, trying to select the best pictures he had taken of the last winter moon to send to the magazine for publication. Jo had nervously cleared her throat and said in a shaky voice, ”Uh, can I talk to you guys about something?”

Brienne and Jaime had turned around, a hint of silent alarm in their eyes. _Shit, now they probably think I’m pregnant_ , Jo had though with a hint of belated amusement. “Come on guys, it’s nothing bad, don’t worry,” she said not missing their almost simultaneous sigh of relief. “But it _is_ important.” Jo looked over at Brienne, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I want to have Dad’s name.”

Her mother had looked surprised, and Jo knew it was because this was completely unexpected. Jo had never shown any interest in changing her last name to Jaime’s, and he had never pressured her to do so. She looked over at her father then, whose wide grin was impossible to hide, his green eyes joyous.

“I need to explain myself,” Jo said. “Dad, I want to have your name, but that doesn’t mean I want to ditch Mom’s.” Jo felt that she wasn’t making things clear, and that maybe she was creating more confusion than necessary in her parents.

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to suddenly just be Joanna Lannister, because I don’t feel it’s fair to Mom,” Jo had said with conviction. “So, I was thinking…I could be Joanna Lannister-Tarth…or Joanna Tarth-Lannister. Either way, I have both your names and I don’t have to choose one of you over the other. I really don’t want to do that because I love you both so much.”

Her mother had spoken first after glancing briefly at Jaime and giving him a smile. “Sweetheart, if that’s what you want, then we’re fine with it,” her mother had said. “As to Lannister-Tarth or Tarth-Lannister…” Brienne looked at Jaime again, and he nodded. “That’s entirely your choice too, Jo. We’ll be happy with whatever you decide.” Jo had hurried over to hug them both, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help being worried that either Jaime or Brienne would take offense about whatever she ultimately chose to do.

The tiebreaker had amazingly been her mother. The two of them had been shopping for Jo’s school clothes, when unexpectedly, Brienne had gently told her that she had thought a lot about what Jo said the other day. Her mom said that if Jo agreed, she felt that the best choice of name was Joanna Lannister-Tarth.

Taken aback, Jo had asked her why with a furrowed brow. Brienne, taking her daughter’s hand, had explained that Jaime had missed out on sixteen years of being her dad, along with everything else fatherhood entailed. She went on to say that this would be a huge gesture for Jaime, one that she was certain would make him so very happy. Jo had looked doubtfully at Brienne.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this, Mom? I don’t want you to feel that I’m pushing you aside, or that I’m…”

Her mom had held up a hand, shaking her head. “I would _never_ think that Jo. I’m the one who’s telling you that I think it’s what you should do if you want to. Besides, you’ll have both our names, so I don’t really mind whose comes first. But honey, I know it would make a huge difference to your dad because of all the time he lost with you.”

Jo had agreed with misty eyes, thinking that it was so sad that Jaime spent so many years completely unaware that he had a daughter who went to bed every night dreaming of a father she had never met.

Her dad was, as Brienne had predicted, overjoyed when Jo had told him of her decision. He held her tightly and gently kissed the top of Jo’s head, which was now more difficult to do since she was almost as tall as he was. “You don’t know what this means to me, sweetheart. Thank you.”

He had looked at her mother then, and Jo thought that if she ever fell in love, she wanted someone to look at her like her dad looked at her mom. Jaime had taken Brienne in his arms saying, “It was you who helped her decide this, wasn’t it?” He kissed her mom while softly whispering, “I love you so much,” in a low voice, but loud enough for Jo to hear. Brienne had looked at him reverently, her hand stealing up to caress his face.

Jo had silently gotten up from the couch and left them alone.

***

Yes, many things had happened in the last three years, but the most important event had without a doubt been her parent’s wedding, which much to Jo’s chagrin, had taken an excruciating long time to happen. Jaime and Brienne talked repeatedly about setting a date but nothing ever came of it, and Jo couldn’t help noticing that her father was becoming frustrated. One day while having lunch with Tyrion, she had gloomily told him about her concern that her parents might never get married.

Tyrion had looked at her while chewing his food thoughtfully. Then he had smiled at Jo, his eyes shining with wicked glee. “My dear niece, I think I’ve found a solution to the problem. But I’m going to need your help, and a serious promise that you’ll keep what I’m planning a secret.”

Jo had smirked conspiratorially and said, “I’ve kept the secret of that girl you’ve been seeing which you haven’t told my dad about, haven’t I?”

Her uncle had winked at her. “And I couldn’t thank you enough for that. The Gods know I don’t need your father interrogating me about every aspect of my personal life.”

So with the excuse of Jaime’s birthday, Jo had ended up with her mother blindfolded in a taxi and Tyrion in the same circumstances with her father in a separate car. Jo had made up a story about a surprise for Jaime, and had convinced her parents to go along with her plans. Jaime and Brienne had looked at her oddly when Jo suggested the blindfolds and two taxis, but at seeing her excitement they had smiled at each other and agreed to go with whatever she wanted to do.

Jo had only hoped that her plan didn’t backfire spectacularly. What if her parents didn’t even want to get married? The thought of it made her nervous.

When the two cabs had pulled up more or less at the same time in front of the courthouse, Jaime led by Tyrion and Brienne gently by Jo, had been speechless when the blindfolds were removed and they realized where they were. Tyrion gave them a serious look, cleared his throat, and said, “If you are in any way upset with this, don’t blame Jo. I’m the one responsible and I set this up because your daughter is worried that you two haven’t set a wedding date. You’ve been engaged for more than a year. I think right now is as good a time as any, don’t you?” Tyrion had asked, looking from Brienne to Jaime and tilting his head.

Her parents had looked at each other in silence, visibly struggling for something to say. Jo stepped forward and spoke to them in a pleading voice. “Look, I know you guys didn’t count on this, and I’m sorry to have sprung this on you. But come on! You two love each other, and you keep delaying this for _no_ reason.” She looked pointedly at her mom. “I know you might be scared, and you think that more time is better, but it really isn’t. I love you both so much and you _deserve_ to be together!”

Tyrion moved to stand beside Jo. “I have a friend who’s a clerk in the courthouse and is willing to sidestep the fact that there’s no marriage license as a favor to me. You can file the document another time. But we’re here, and if this is something you two really want, then let’s get it done. Jo worked very hard to pull off this surprise for you two, but you need to decide right now.”

Jo looked expectantly at her parents, as Jaime turned to look at Brienne with a grin. “What do you think, Tarthy? Feel like getting married today?

Brienne looked at him fixedly, saying nothing, and Jo was worried she was actually going to say no. But then her mother’s face broke into a huge smile, her blue eyes clear and bright as the sunny sky above them. “Hells, yes. I think we definitely should do this before Jo has children, don’t you?” she said teasingly.

Jaime’s smile suddenly turned into a solemn scowl. “My daughter’s not having _children_ any time soon.”

Brienne laughed and reached for Jaime’s hand, while he put his arms around her. She looked at Jo and Tyrion, smiling at their relieved faces. “Well, what are we standing out here for? We have a wedding to go to.”

Jo had laughed loudly, rushing to hug them both while giving Tyrion a thumbs-up over her parents’ shoulders.

Finally! Jo thought with relief. It had certainly been a long time coming.

***

She was close to her destination now, and Jo suddenly remembered that she had to call Rickon Stark later and confirm that he was coming over tonight for the party. Jo thought briefly of when Brienne and Jaime had first announced that they were engaged after the horrible fight they’d had three years ago. Her mom had come home with Jaime trailing behind, and Jo immediately knew by the expression on their faces that they had talked things out and were going to take a chance on each other again. Catelyn Stark hadn’t looked too pleased about Brienne’s decision or Jaime’s presence, but she had politely remained silent. Her dad had seen Rickon standing behind his mother, and had approached him offering his hand.

While Catelyn eyed him suspiciously, Jaime had looked at the younger man with a smile. “I have to…I want to thank you, son,” her father had said, tripping a bit on his words. “Because if it hadn’t been for you, I never would have found Brienne.” Jaime swallowed hard, his eyes shining, and Jo felt a wave of sadness damper the joy that she felt at her parents being together. Her father continued in a low voice that was filled with emotion. ”If not for you, I never…I never would have met my daughter. I would have gone through life not knowing about her, or never seeing the woman I love again.”

Jaime clasped Rickon’s hand firmly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to repay you for bringing my family back to me, Rickon. A family I didn’t even know I had. But if there’s ever anything you need, _anything_ , don’t hesitate to ask, ok?” Rickon had nodded shyly, as Jaime clapped him on the shoulder.

Jo looked at Catelyn and was surprised to see that she had stopped scowling at her dad and was looking at him with a hesitant smile. Brienne was rubbing her eyes forcefully, visibly trying not to cry, as Jo rushed to her and Jaime, putting her arms around both of them.

 

***

She came to an abrupt stop in front of Vysenia’s Hill station, wondering if what she was looking for would still be there. Jo started to descend the steps, trying her best not to get trampled by the onslaught of rush hour commuters who were rudely pushing past her. Once at the bottom, and as she headed in the direction of The Missed Connections wall, Jo couldn’t help thinking about her family. A family that wouldn’t be if Rickon had not been looking at the wall at the right time, and seen the paper with Brienne’s name. She smiled, knowing that Rickon now worshipped Jaime after her dad had gotten a backstage pass for him to meet the members of his favorite rock band last weekend.

Her father had used every resource at Westerosi Geographic, and spoke to a celebrity photographer he knew when Jo had told him about Rickon’s love for the band, surprising him unawares with a backstage pass. Rickon had looked at it speechless, barely managing to mumble a thank you while Jaime had looked at him, his green eyes kind.

“If anything, it’s me who can never thank you enough. Rickon, I owe you my family, and nothing I do can be enough to tell you what that means to me.” Jo had looked at her friend with a smile, while her dad pulled her into a gripping bear hug.

Deep in thought, Jo didn’t realize she had arrived at the wall until she had almost passed it. She stood back from it a bit, and stared open-mouthed at the countless messages on it, papers flapping gently each time a train arrived and again when it left. The rush of people had ebbed a bit, and Jo was aware of an unfamiliar silence here, almost as if there was some form of an agreed-upon respect over what this wall represented for so many people. She moved closer to it, and began to scan some of them. There was a message from “Honey-Bunny” for her husband who had been missing since the terror attacks that had shaken King’s Landing some years back. Another was of a son looking for his mother who had left him when he was a baby. One from a man addressed to a woman he had met while on vacation in Dorne, claiming he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

Jo sighed deeply. So many stories of lost loves and lonely people. She felt so sad that many of them would never be able to find who they were looking for; they would perhaps have to live the rest of their lives with a sense of loss that would never leave them. Jo sighed again, thinking that she’d better get to work. It was a lot to look through, and she didn’t have a lot of time.

She used Rickon’s picture as a guide, but Jo knew this was going to be one hells of a hard job. There were hundreds upon hundreds of messages, many stacked over each other haphazardly. _Shit, would she ever find it?_ Jo knew from the photo that the paper she was looking for was green, which hardly made it easier, but at least maybe it would make it more visible. As she was scanning a group of them, she saw suddenly a bright yellow flyer that caught her eye:

_MEET TYTOS THE LION’S NEW CUBS!!!_

_This Saturday, King’s Landing Zoo and Gardens will be presenting to the public the newly born cubs of Tytos the Lion. As many already know, Tytos was one of our oldest lions, and some say he was also the loneliest. But last year, in a rare exchange with the Wildlife Santuary in Essos, we brought to KL Zoo and Gardens a lioness by the name of Nala. At first her and Tytos fought constantly, and didn’t get along. But their animosity soon turned to friendship, and then romance! They now have six beautiful cubs, and Tytos is no longer the loneliest lion at the Zoo!_

_Don’t miss this unique chance of seeing Tytos and Nala’s beautiful family._

_(Food and drinks will be available in the courtyard)_

 Jo felt her eyes water as she read the flyer. Tytos had cubs, and _a mate_! She smiled widely, thinking that if her mother knew, it would make her so happy to see that Tytos was no longer alone. Jo pulled out her phone to take a picture, but a train was coming into the station, causing the paper to move brusquely from side to side, so she put a hand on the flyer to grip it firmly, accidentally detaching it from its place on the wall. As she raised her arm to put it back, she saw a message that had been hidden underneath: a light green paper, the color now faded by the passing of time and the daily grime of the station, was now moving gently in the breeze caused by the departing train, almost beckoning her. Jo waited for silence to befall the station again, and gently touched the message with her finger, somehow knowing that her father had done the same three years ago.

Even now she could read the desperation in Jaime’s words: _“It’s been too long…I’ve missed you so much, Blue eyes…I need to find you…”_ Jo couldn’t help the tears that gradually began to roll down her cheeks, dampening the front of her shirt. She felt such sorrow for her father, imagining how hopeless he had been, leaving a message on a subway wall for a woman whom he hadn’t seen in so long; a woman who he thought had callously abandoned him, but had never been able to forget. _He didn’t even know about me when he wrote this_ , Jo though sadly, thinking of all the years her parents had been apart.

She wiped her eyes, remembering that she had come here with a purpose. Jo took out the clear plastic folder, which protected a robin-egg blue sheet of paper, neatly typed. She placed the tape she had brought with her on the ground, and looked around for an empty space on the wall beneath Jaime's note. Suddenly, Jo glanced over at her dad’s message to her mom and smiled, an idea beginning to form rapidly in her mind. She carefully taped the blue paper to the green one, noticing how beautifully the two colors complimented one another, almost giving the impression of a bright green garden on a spring day, blending into the sky.

Jo took out her camera and snapped a few pictures, wanting to remember how these two sheets of paper looked together. Years from now, they might still be here, or perhaps they wouldn’t. Who knew? But the picture would remain as proof of her father’s steadfast love for her mother and the opportune intervention of Rickon Stark that had allowed them to find their way back to each other.

She thought of her friend for a moment, playing over once again how Rickon now looked at her in a different way, and how nervous she became lately when she saw him. They had been friends since they were little, and she had never felt anything more than a sisterly love for him, and Jo knew it was the same for Rickon. But things seemed different between them now.

 _Maybe…Maybe_ …

Jo stepped away from the wall and gave a last look at the endless number of messages. She could see her dad’s and her own peeking out from beneath the announcement of Tytos’ cubs, and felt satisfied with that. It seemed that they all belonged together somehow.

She turned away slowly and headed in the direction of the stairs and to the exit.

_Fuck, she was going to be so late!_

 

_***_

A woman standing not far from where Jo had been, saw her leave. _Beautiful girl_ , Melisandre thought to herself, while having a strong urge to see the note that the girl had left behind. She was already late for her next card reading, thanks to these constant train delays, but she had felt _something_ from this girl. Melisandre didn’t want to call it a “vive” or “energy.” She reserved that hogwash for the clients that paid her a fortune, and expected from her only what they wanted to hear.

No, the blonde girl had something else; a light, _a radiance_ that glowed from within. This was precisely what these rich, self-serving people that she read cards and drew astrological charts for, didn’t understand: Fate and destiny weren’t things you could force or bend at your will. They were fleeting, fickle things, and people remained dismally unaware that certain paths had been charted for them the moment they were born.

 _Like this girl_.

As the girl hurried away towards the exit looking at her watch, Melisandre abruptly saw pieces of her future like bits of a film. A kiss from a loved one; parents who adored her, and adored each other with an intensity Melisandre had rarely felt before. The girl would have adventures in faraway places; much happiness, but also heartbreak.

 _The circle of life_.

Flipping her bright red hair over her shoulder, Melisandre, who was known among her peers as The Red Woman, made her way to the wall and located the blue paper that the girl had left behind. As she read, her lips stretched into a smile, thinking that perhaps not all hope was lost in this treacherous world after all.

****

 

**_Addendum:_ **

**_Above this note, is my parents’ story. It begins with my father. He left this note here three years ago in a desperate attempt to get in touch with my mom, whom he had lost fifteen years ago. One day, she disappeared from his life and he never saw her again. Amazingly, he never stopped loving her even when he believed she had abandoned him without any explanation. He kept coming back here occasionally, to check if his note was still there. And it was. But he never heard from Blue Eyes (my mother) until one day, one of her students (my friend) saw the note, took a picture and showed it to her._ **

**_My mom’s story is equally incredible. You see, she believed my dad abandoned her when she was pregnant with me. It turns out that my dad was sent on an assignment and trusted someone he shouldn’t have, to tell my mom about it. This person never told her what my dad had said, choosing instead to lie and say that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with my mother…or with me._ **

**_My dad was lied to as well. He never knew I existed, and only found out about me when my mom called him after seeing this note. At first he was angry, thinking that she hadn’t done enough to find him. But then he understood that they had both been victims of someone who was vile, malicious and cruel. Someone who wanted to do my mom harm just because she had committed the ultimate transgression of falling in love with my dad. They lost fifteen years separated from each other, and I missed out on having him around when I was growing up._ **

**_I just want to say that this story has a happy ending. Or maybe as happy as it can be for a family who is still adjusting. But…we have a new addition now! Today is my little brother Leo’s first birthday. He is so adorable, and such a cool baby! His eyes are exactly like my mom’s and he’s also quiet and shy, like her. I’m more like my dad; that’s what my mom says anyway._**

**_I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Leo at first. I’m going to college soon, and that means less time with my dad. I felt that my brother was getting all I had missed with my father, and that made me sad and sometimes, even a bit mean, especially with my mom. But then dad and I talked, and he helped me understand that in no way should I feel less loved just because he hadn’t been there when I was little. “I’m here now, sweetheart,” he told me. “And you will always be the most important thing in my life. Always.” I understood what he said, but then I felt so guilty for my behavior._ **

**_Afterwards, I made sure to apologize to mom._ **

**_From then on, I loved Leo so much. I can’t imagine my life now without his sweet little face! When my parents started talking about having a baby, my mom was worried that she was too old. But my dad told her she was definitely not old, and that now she had him to share the heavy lifting with. _ **

**_Anyway, back to the point. I wanted to leave this here as kind of…well…a symbol of hope, I guess. My parents found each other again after years of being apart. For so long, they probably kept missing each other, living in the same city, not knowing that in reality they were closer than they thought. And honestly? Who knows if their relationship would have worked if they had stayed together back then. They were both very young, and maybe they would have gone their separate ways eventually. Or maybe not. But as my mom says, we have to move on from the past so we can give the future a chance. I see my parents’ love growing stronger all the time, and I always think how incredibly lucky they are that fate gave them a second chance._**

**_Gave us a second chance._ **

**_To everyone who has ever left a message on this wall thinking that it’s nothing but a hopeless attempt to contact the person you lost, I just want to say: keep hoping. Because you never know. Maybe when you least expect it, you'll get a phone call from that someone you desperately want to find. Perhaps one day, you’ll be lucky enough to discover your way back to one another._ **

**_My parents are proof that sometimes love can find a way to do that._ **

**_J.L.T._ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These notes are gonna be long, so feel free to skip if you want :)
> 
> I feel like I’m about to give a boring speech at the Academy Awards. Because I truly have lots of people to thank.  
> First off my co-authors, LuxEvergreen and CaptainTarthister. They saw potential in this story when I didn’t, and in spite of being up to their eyeballs in their own work, they agreed to collaborate with me on making Pieces a multi-chapter.  
> I couldn’t have asked for more talented writers and amazing friends. I was a fan of both your works before we became friends, and now that we are, I hope you know I love you both tons and tons. The magic of this fandom brought us together, and hopefully it will keep us that way no matter what happens with JB.  
> To ShirleyAnn66: Your advice and feedback was more valuable than you will ever know. I am such a fan of your work. You are such a kick-ass storyteller, and I love everything you write so very very much.  
> And last but certainly not least: to everyone who looked into this story, particular;y all of you who stuck with it until the end. I know right now angsty fics are not being favored in this fandom by many people, so I’m blown away that you considered this interesting and engaging enough to follow it till the end. I am forever grateful to all of you!  
> I also want to mention the books that inspired this particular JB story. It was actually three of them:  
> “Before We Were Strangers” by Renee Carlino . This is the main work that inspired Pieces. And the name for Jo’s baby brother came from Carlino’s story. I thought Leo fit perfectly for Jaime and Brienne’s kiddo ☺  
> “The Light We Lost” by Jill Santopolo. (If you read this, get ready to bawl your eyes out. A lot.)  
> “The Map That Leads To You” by J.P. Monninger.  
> In case you’re interested, I broke down who wrote what just so you get an idea how the collab worked out:  
> Chapter 1: Selene  
> Chapter 2: LuxEvergreen  
> Chapters 3 and 4: Captain Tarthister  
> Chapter 5: Selene  
> Chapter 6: LuxEvergreen/Selene  
> Chapter 7: CaptainTarthister/Selene  
> Chapter 8: CaptainTarthister  
> Chapter 9: Selene/LuxEvergreen  
> Epilogue: Selene
> 
> Thank you all so much for coming along for this unexpected ride! It’s been truly amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments, criticism or questions are welcome!
> 
> Thanks for reading


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